The Dream of One Night
by Renfair
Summary: Regardless of what others may think of him, Severus Snape is a brave man. However, a Dark secret in his past makes him fearful of what could happen if he gives into the feelings he is developing for his apprentice, Avrille. What he doesn't know is that her love might just save his life. [2008 HPFF Dobby Finalist, 2 Gluttony P.I. Awards]
1. Chapter One:  AVRILLE

CHAPTER ONE

_Avrille_

I would have never guessed that running into someone could totally change the course of my life. And I really mean running into someone.

Literally.

A few weeks prior, I had been honoured as a previous Valedictorian of The Salem Witches' Institute with an invitation to attend an exclusive lecture being given in London by Professor Severus Snape. He would be giving his dissertation on the effectiveness of demi-human blood in restorative potions and the controversy surrounding its use. I couldn't believe my luck when I received the invite; my Remedial Arts Thesis (R.A.T.) was on potion-making in the healing arts, so this lecture seemed made for me. I was also dying to hear a lecture by Professor Snape. His innovations in the art of potion-making were famous, and it was mostly because of his position as a staff member that I applied to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry for my teaching apprenticeship following graduate school. My mother had tried to talk me out of applying there. Although she regarded Albus Dumbledore to be one of the most important and powerful wizards of the modern age, she worried about me being so far from home. I managed to convince her eventually by reminding her that Britain held far better opportunities than rural Nova Scotia.

Anyway, I had arrived in London a few days early and spent most of them pursuing normal Muggle-ish tourism like visiting Buckingham Palace and Big Ben. Foolishly I had not spent much time on my magical sightseeing, so it took me much longer than I had planned to find St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries where Professor Snape was holding his lecture. A Healer at the reception desk directed me to the ninth floor, mainly administrative but also holding numerous lecture halls as well as observatories for interesting magical operations. By now I was on the verge of being late to the lecture and berated myself repeatedly for my unpreparedness, acting like a primary-school girl on a field trip.

Since I was hurrying down the long and twisting hallways with my nose buried in a directory pamphlet, I had little vision as to where I was going. Therefore it was hardly surprising when I crashed into someone at a virtual run, strewing the contents of my bag across breadth of the corridor. I dropped to the floor to collect my scattered belongings while being gently dusted by loose leaves of parchment filtering down from the crash.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" I gasped and looked to see if my poor victim was injured. My eyes rested on a wizard, a little older than me, with long black hair that was hanging into his eyes as he stooped over to pick up the closest of his scattered notes, an empty file folder clutched in his left hand.

"Yes, I should hope," he muttered irritably. He then retrieved the scattered papers astonishingly quickly with what seemed to be a nonverbal Summoning Charm directed with his empty right hand as his left gathered the parchment around his feet. Watching this deft spell-work left me frozen in amazement for a moment in an awkward half-crouch as I was trying to gather up my own things; the wizard was not even using a wand. Within seconds he was standing, and his folder was full once more. Then he looked over and saw my expression, which must have been a strange mixture of undiluted awe and utter mortification.

His scowl softened as he said in a politer tone, "Forgive me. I'm quite late and was not paying attention to where I was going either." He knelt down beside me and helped me to quickly locate the rest of my personal items as I fetched a quill of his that had gone astray. Once or twice his eyes darted to my Muggle jeans and pink hooded sweatshirt, quite different from his elegant robes of deep charcoal with black top-stitching.

"No, it was my fault. I'm just hopelessly lost, you see. I'm trying to find the hall where Professor Snape is giving his lecture. Am I close to it?" The wizard looked at me with a strange expression, the nature of which I could not guess.

"I'm headed to the hall myself, so I can escort you if you like," he said, straightening up and rearranging his grip on his bundle, perhaps just in case another maniacal twenty-something crashed into him again.

"Oh, that would be great!" I replied, and we took off down the hallway together. In fact, I had only been a few doors away, and if I had not been completely absorbed in that directory I would have seen the placard in front of the hall bearing the words, "Professor Severus Snape of Hogwarts, 'The Benefits and Shortcomings of Demi-Human Blood Usage in the Restorative Arts', Saturday the Twenty-Second, Noon to Two O'clock, Questions and Answers to Follow" lit up in silver lettering. The wizard opened the door and held it ajar for me.

I gave him what I hoped to be a charming, apologetic smile and said, "Thank you and sorry again for that." I held out my free hand to him, wondering if the British did that sort of thing. The wizard, who I now noticed to be quite interesting looking with his dark, brooding, melancholic eyes, gave me the same peculiar look once more, but took my hand nevertheless. I noticed his eyes lingered on the little Canadian flag pin I always kept on my hoodie.

"It has been a pleasure," he said, rather like he meant it too, and walked into the auditorium. I scampered in after him and tried to find a seat as quietly as I could without attracting too many disparaging stares from elderly witches and wizards alike around me. Finding a seat near the back, I quickly took out my notebook and auto-refill quill and glanced out of the corner of my eye to see where my poor assaulted wizard was sitting. I could not say why, but he greatly intrigued me. My breath caught when I saw he had not taken a seat but was striding purposefully to the center of the theatre-in-the-round. He reached the podium on which he briskly sorted through his many sheets of parchment, thoughtfully rearranged by me. I sank down into my seat, as if he could have seen me, and covered my face in my hands. However, that did not stop me from hearing his polished baritone state, "Good afternoon, I am Professor Severus Snape. I apologize for the delay."

_Oh God, let me die now._

I had never been so mortified in my entire life. I had just physically assaulted my future mentor without a clue as to who he was. It would not be so drastic but for the fact that I would be "meeting" him in a week's time when I arrived at Hogwarts to begin my apprenticeship. No wonder he had looked at me as if I were speaking Japanese when I referred to him in the third person. Even though I was lucky enough for him not to know who I was now, he would certainly recognize me at Hogwarts since I would probably be spending much time under his tutelage. Well, obviously. That _was _why I had applied to Hogwarts after all. I could just picture him a week from now upon seeing me. "Oh wonderful," he would think, "I get to spend the vast part of this year with head-on collision girl." Unfortunately my mental self-berating caused me to miss the introduction to brilliant, forgiving, _normal_ Professor Snape's lecture. What a wonderful beginning I was having here.

Fortunately I had a squat witch in front of me from whom I was able to glean what I had missed by looking at her notes over her shoulder. So far it seemed Professor Snape had just covered his education, qualifications, and experience, mostly things I already knew from reading his essays and books. He attended Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, graduated 1977 second in his class; was accepted into the highly exclusive Academia Veneficiorum in Rome for graduate school; wrote his B.A.T. (Black Arts Thesis) on potion-making and the Dark Arts and received unprecedented full marks; graduated _top _of his class from the Academia in 1980; was hired a year later by Hogwarts to be their Potions master after six months of apprenticeship under the previous Potions master who was retiring that year, and has been teaching there ever since. Yes, I knew these facts well enough. What amazed me, now thinking upon it for the first time, was that I had never actually _seen_ Professor Snape before. His picture was never published in his works, as far as I knew. So he couldn't blame _me,_ obviously foreign from my accent and pin, for not knowing who the hell he was. Honestly!

I listened with rapt attention. How could I not? Professor Snape spoke with an authoritarian certainty about everything, never once bringing the thought to my mind that he could be incorrect about any of it. Not to mention his rich, deep voice that gave me shivers more than once as I furiously scribbled down every word he said in shorthand.

At the end of the lecture, which I was convinced was at least five hours too short, Professor Snape called for questions. I had come to the lecture with more than one question on my mind, yet I feared now whether or not I had the conviction to ask any of them and create the possibility for further embarrassment. Several witches and wizards around me were already raising their wands, tips aglow in the darkened hall. I debated back and forth the pros and cons of asking a simple question.

Pro: asking a really insightful, intellectual question would not only show that I paid excellent attention to the lecture, but also that I was not an absolute spaz, contrary to what Professor Snape might now be thinking. Con: I could always ask him my questions later, in _private,_ when I was at Hogwarts just in case they were not as clever as I thought. Pro: asking _now_ meant that when I met Professor Snape _later_, he might remember me as "that girl who asked that really great question" rather than "that girl who almost gave me a concussion." Con: I was totally petrified.

"One more question only, please." Professor Snape's statement jarred my reality, and without realizing it, I shot my hand in the air, my wand emitting little sparks from my over-zealousness. Professor Snape looked my way and raised an eyebrow when he saw it was me.

"Yes… Miss?" he asked, pointing to me.

Before any more internal debate could occur, I heard my far-away sounding voice say, "Owing to the fact that the giant population is rapidly diminishing, what would work as a substitute for their blood in potion-making if the race soon becomes extinct?"

Professor Snape looked at me for a moment, contemplating. "There _are_ several possible substitutions," he said simply after a minute, "but I would like to research more thoroughly which one would be most effective before giving a definitive choice. If you would be so kind as to give me an address by which you could be reached by owl, I will write you an answer when I find one." His reply was utterly serious with no hint of sarcasm or condescension. With that said, he addressed the full audience once more, thanking them for their attendance and giving how he could be contacted if any more questions needed answering. As soon as it was polite to do so, I bolted from my seat and out of the hall, annoyed by my own unanswerable question. Of course Professor Snape would probably be wondering at this moment where I had gone, but I could not face him right now. He would be able to answer me if he still wished to in a few days when I showed up on the Hogwarts doorstep.

The air outside of St. Mungo's was fresh and breezy compared to the stuffy lecture hall. After a moment, I began to smell once again the automobile exhaust and industrial smog, but the smells were blocked out as I pressed a hand over my mouth, cursing my bad luck. I knew I was probably making too much of it all. With all likelihood, Professor Snape would forget about me between now and my arrival at Hogwarts. Alright, probably not.

Hopping on the Muggle Underground, I let my body gently sway with the train car, closing my eyes and trying to dispel the headache that was slowly spreading from my temples. I tried taking a few deep breaths but only succeeded in nauseating myself after breathing in the smell of body odour and jacket potatoes that seemed to be as much a part of the train as the seats or handrails. Finally the train came to my stop, and I gratefully disembarked, taking the upward steps in twos. Emerging once again in the London afternoon, I spotted The Leaky Cauldron a bit down the street. I ran the last few hundred feet to its peeling green door, desperate for a cold, hard Banshee Buster on the rocks. Entering the tavern, I saw it was practically filled, mostly with students and their parents seeking entrance to Diagon Alley or just a nice chilled Butterbeer. I managed to find a seat at the bar and gave Tom the barman my order, blowing my bangs angrily out of my face.

"Rough day, Miss Asphodel?" he asked with a smile as he placed my smoking green drink in front of me.

"You have no idea," I replied and downed my Buster in three scorching gulps. I decided to retire to my room; the rising level of chatter and shouts was not agreeing with me as many more witches, wizards, kids, and Muggles filed into the tavern. Upstairs, my room was much as I had left it, robes and books scattered absolutely everywhere. My cat, Caligula, opened one blue eye as I entered the room. I named him myself. I thought it was funny. My mom said it was morbid.

Flinging myself on my nicely made bed, I covered my face with my arms and let the day wash over me once more. Turning over on my side, I picked up my latest copy of _American Witch._ I thumbed through the pages, wanting to lose myself in the shallow familiarity of the latest in hairstyling spells and magicked nail polish. However, I found no matter what I tried to read my thoughts kept wandering back to Professor Snape with his black hair falling over his mysterious eyes…

I did some quick math in my head. Graduated 1977 means…born in 1959, therefore…thirty-three years old. And you are how old, Avrille? Twenty-four?

_Why am I even thinking about this?_

With an exasperated sigh, I flung _American Witch_ across the room, Caligula voicing a resentful yowl as it missed his tail by an inch. Ignoring his indignation, I rolled over onto my stomach, ready for a nice long nap.

* * *

_Author's Note__:_ I've decided to add this note because of something that is brought up often in my reviews. In this story I have Severus as having been simply very good friends with Lily Evans. He was never in love with her. This is important to keep in mind in later chapters because the likelihood of certain feelings of his might be called into question by readers who have completed _Harry Potter and the __Deathly Hallows._

Though the majority of the story strictly follows canon, I decided on most aspects of the plot before _Harry Potter and the_ _Half Blood Prince _had been released. Therefore certain things, like aspects of Severus' past, will not follow canon.

Thank you for checking out my story, and I hope you keep reading! If you have time, please leave a review because they mean the absolute world to me!

_Disclaimer_: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. All original characters are products of the author, as is the premise and plot.


	2. Chapter Two: SEVERUS

CHAPTER TWO

_Severus_

On the Monday following my London lecture, I entered Dumbledore's office promptly at four o'clock to learn with what sort of child I would be wasting the coming school year. Since my last apprentice four years ago-whom I ended up failing half-way through the first term for unpardonable incompetence-I had avoided the obligation with a lucky string of incoming Hogwarts apprentices interested in mundane subjects such as Arithmancy and Muggle Studies. I was beyond irritated when, at the end of the previous school term, the headmaster informed me that my time had come up once again, and during _this_ of all years; I had begun that spring researching and testing the theory of an invisibility potion. So far the work consumed me, and I could not imagine how I could continue with my efforts the following year if I was constantly chasing after some troublesome graduate student. My only consolation was that at least the burden would be shared with Pomona Sprout since apparently the incoming was a dual major.

The afternoon sunlight shone through the western windows brilliantly, bringing my thoughts back to the situation at hand while casting sparkling rays upon the numerous Dark detectors and other instruments the headmaster had on display around the room. Dumbledore was sitting at his desk having a hurried, whispered conversation with Minerva. He raised a hand at me, signalling that I should wait where I was until he was finished. As I stood patiently, I heard a familiar voice above me speak up.

"Ah, young Severus, is it?"

I looked up at the portrait hanging high on the wall to my left. "Good afternoon, Headmaster," I replied. The portrait was of Phineas Nigellus Black, Headmaster of Hogwarts for a brief stint during the nineteenth century. He, like myself, had been the head of Slytherin House in his time and never failed to try and chat with me about the current state of it whenever I came to see Dumbledore.

"Glad to see you again," Phineas continued. "All is well with the preparations for the new students of Slytherin House next week, I trust?"

"As well as can be."

Phineas sat quietly in his painted chair for a moment, twirling his pointed black beard between his fingers thoughtfully. "It's such a shame that you weren't Head Boy, Severus."

I sighed heavily. Phineas often broached this subject.

"You know that if _I _had been headmaster when you were at school, I would have made sure a well deserving Slytherin like yourself received that honour, not some upstart Gryffindor like that Potter boy… Well, not that it matters. You're in a much better position than him now, eh?" Phineas emitted a cackling laugh. I tried to smile politely and was relieved to see Minerva rise from her seat. Dumbledore rose as well as she left and summoned me to him.

"Tea?" Dumbledore asked, gesturing open-palmed to a kettle whistling happily on his desk.

"No, thank you," I replied as I took my seat in front of him. Dumbledore poured himself a cup then sat as well once more.

"Well, as you know, I asked you here this afternoon to discuss the apprentice you and Pomona will be supervising this year." Dumbledore lifted the tea kettle off a file folder and handed it to me. "Take a moment to look that over. I dare say you'll find it…interesting. I also do not believe that you will be able to find a single reason to sack this one. We were very lucky to procure her," he said, sipping the hot tea carefully to keep it from running into his beard.

I raised an eyebrow at his last comment. I had never heard of a school "procuring" an apprentice before. Usually candidates had to fight viciously for a spot at Hogwarts. The application process alone could take well over a year. I read the name on the folder: "Avrille Asphodel." The last name struck a distant chord with me, and not because of the potions ingredient, but I couldn't place it. I flipped through the file, scanning it quickly.

Mistress Asphodel seemed to be rather bright…graduated Valedictorian from both The Salem Witches' Institute and The Boston Witches' Academy, quite impressive indeed…was currently hoping to fine tune her potion-making and Herbology skills with the goal of becoming a professor herself. I read carefully the recommendation letters enclosed from the deans of her two schools with interest. Both described her as "a lovely young lady" with "great determination," "high aspirations," and "amazing talent for one her age." There was also a copy of her extensive Remedial Arts Thesis, all four hundred and twenty seven pages, which I realised I would probably have to read in full before she arrived. As I was perusing her marks from The Salem Witches' Institute, I noticed something strange: there was no record of any marks before her sixth year, nor of her O.W.L. exams. However, her N.E.W.T. marks were included, all of which she passed with "Outstanding."

When I mentioned this oversight to Dumbledore, his expression turned suddenly unreadable, and he spent a few moments rearranging himself in his high-backed chair. Finally he cleared his throat loudly and said, "Yes, well, I was going to get to that in a minute." He removed a ring of keys from his robe and used a small silver one to unlock one of his desk drawers from which he removed another file folder, this one only half as full as the one I was now holding. It also bore the name "Avrille Asphodel" on it, but underneath, "CONFIDENTIAL" was stamped with Dumbledore's own official seal along with another seal I did not recognise. With a wave of his hand, a faint blue mist fell from the folder. It seemed Dumbledore had dissolved some sort of charm that protected it. He set the folder down square in front of him and clasped his hands over it on the desk.

"There are no school records for Avrille Asphodel before her sixth year at The Salem Witches' Institute because she did not attend there before her sixth year."

"Was she a transfer student?" I asked. Transfer students were rare but not unheard of.

Dumbledore sighed. "That's what everyone at the Institute was told. Only the dean of the Institute, Abigail Proctor, and select members of her staff knew that in fact Mistress Asphodel had attended no school at all until she entered the Institute at age sixteen."

"I'm afraid I don't follow," I said after a moment, Dumbledore watching me intently.

"Mistress Asphodel is an exceedingly gifted witch but also rather peculiar with her powers. As you can see," Dumbledore pointed to her N.E.W.T. scores, "she achieved top marks in her two years at The Salem Witches' Institute, quite an amazing feat for one with only two years of formal magical training." Dumbledore paused once more, trying to read my reaction. I, however, was just as confused as I had been before he began this explanation.

He continued, "When she was very young, Avrille showed she possessed innately astonishing powers. Of course, being only a small child, she lacked the ability to control them. If you would kindly take a look at this." Dumbledore removed a single piece of parchment from the mystery folder and handed it to me. It was dated from 1973 and seemed to be a letter from Mistress Asphodel's mother to Dean Proctor detailing that her five-year-old daughter had somehow managed to…

"_Turn her house inside out_?" I exclaimed. "What exactly does _that_ mean?"

Dumbledore smiled underneath his silvery moustache. He seemed to be enjoying this immensely. "It seems that one day young Avrille was having some sort of childhood tantrum and managed to, well, turn her house inside out! Her mother wrote that all of the interior wallpaper could now be seen on the outside, all of the furniture fell onto the lawn, and their koi pond ended up rather unfortunately in what had been their kitchen. Several other incredible instances like this occurred again-quite at the chagrin of the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad, I can tell you-but finally stopped when Mistress Asphodel had matured a little more, around her eighth birthday."

"But if she possessed such an immense power at such a young age, why did she not start school immediately? Why was she delayed until sixteen?" I asked.

"When she was nine years old, her father was murdered by a group of American Voldemort supporters. Through a leak in the Institute they had heard of young Avrille's extraordinary intrinsic power and had gone to her home with hopes of kidnapping her. They then planned to give her to Lord Voldemort as a tool for him to increase his own strength. When they attacked the Asphodel home, her father was able to hold off the assailants until his wife and daughter were safely away. Tragically, by the time reinforcements arrived to aid him, he had already been killed. Yet his death was not in vain, for he had managed to stun all but one of his attackers who was later captured and sent with the others to the American wizard prison, Oswald Island."

"Yes, I remember that now. The father's name was Armand Asphodel, was it not?" I interrupted. Dumbledore gave me a pointed look, guessing the source of my information.

"Correct. Following her father's murder, Avrille shut down completely." Dumbledore drew forth another sheet from the file and skimmed it. "She refused to eat or sleep for nearly a week. Eventually her mother, completely out of options, summoned a Healer to the house who sedated Avrille and fed her Nourishment Potions until she was physically well again. Unfortunately, it seemed that extensive damage had been done to her aura, leaving Avrille with seemingly no magical ability. She was brought to see many experts, even a Muggle psychiatrist-a sort of mind doctor-but no one could find any reason why her magic would suddenly stop manifesting. Mrs Asphodel, reluctant to keep her daughter a recluse from the magical world, corresponded with the dean of The Salem Witches' Institute and reached an agreement that seemed to solve the problem. Avrille would be home-tutored in magical theory and enter the Institute after the O.W.L. year, when simple spells are relatively unnecessary. She would also be able to avoid taking certain classes like Transfiguration and Charms and focus on more practical fields like-"

"-Potions and Herbology," I broke in with a small nod of understanding.

"Exactly. It turned out this plan worked very well. The students simply believed Mistress Asphodel to be a transfer student from Canada, and since she never had to perform rudimentary magic, no one was the wiser. She achieved top marks in her chosen courses and went on to study them in even more depth at The Boston Witches' Academy where, after hearing of her reputation, no one even thought to ask her to perform beginner magic. Yet even after all this time, her basic magical abilities have barely recovered. Even to this day she has a very hard time performing, say, a simple levitation charm." Uncontrollably an image of Neville Longbottom with pigtails popped into my mind.

I sat quietly for a few minutes, deep in thought. Dumbledore waited patiently, pouring himself another cup of tea until I was ready.

"Not to make light of the girl's grief for her father," I said finally, "but doesn't the _complete_ suppression of magic of her calibre seem to be a rather severe reaction to the death of a loved one? Numerous wizards and witches had immediate family members killed, even tortured in their presence, without any effect on their powers."

Dumbledore set down his teacup once more with an almost indiscernible clink. "I agree it is most extraordinary. I do not want it known to Mistress Asphodel, but her continuing magical handicap is one of the reasons I chose her for the apprentice slot this year. Make no mistake, her merits and accomplishments alone warranted the spot for her. But it was also of great concern to me that even now, almost fifteen years later, she has not recovered any magical ability whatsoever. There is no case like hers on file in the history of the Western World."

I concealed a smile. Dumbledore relished mysteries as much as the colourful Muggle candies in jars adorning his desk. I found myself also becoming more and more interested in this girl. Could it be possible to somehow restore magic that had been buried so deep within a person for well over a decade? And if it were, how far would the limits of such a power reach if it nurtured under the guidance of wizards such as Dumbledore and myself?

Dumbledore gave me a look which I could not decide was mischievous or cautionary. He simply said, "Just remember that you will be working closely with a young lady whose potential powers are beyond the comprehension of most of the wizarding world, powers that have been sought after in that past. I strongly advise you to be cautious, diligent, and discreet.

"After a period of observation, we shall meet again to discern whether or not it would be wise to go forward with any measures to help restore Mistress Asphodel's magic to her. I will say this: Unless I think it can be done with little to no risk, I shan't consider it. It is possible that she knows why her magical powers disappeared but is disinclined to stir up the matter. Currently, Avrille is living a full, relatively happy life. It would be a great injustice to her to reawaken burdens from her past, if burdens there be." Dumbledore rose, signalling the meeting was over. With a slight bow of my head, I took my leave with certainly more curiosity than I had entered with.


	3. Chapter Three: AVRILLE

CHAPTER THREE

_Avrille_

I spent my last few free days finishing up my sightseeing in London. I particularly enjoyed the Jack-the-Ripper tour of the Whitechapel district especially since none of the Muggles on the tour nor the tour guide himself knew that "Jack-the-Ripper" had actually been Nigra Bodewell, a serial-murdering Dark witch with a serious Muggle-hating problem. After the fifth murder of the Muggle prostitute Mary Kelly, Nigra was finally caught and sentenced to life in Azkaban.

Finally, the day before I was to depart for Hogwarts, I had satisfied my goof-off urges and decided I should really get some shopping done. After having some delicious pub fare in the parlour of the Leaky Cauldron, I made my way through the secret entrance to Diagon Alley with my purse full of galleons. I wasn't sure how the shopping situation would be in Hogsmeade, so I figured it would be best to get everything I would need for the year here.

For some reason, there was an enormous crowd of giggling witches and annoyed-looking wizards outside of Flourish and Blotts, and I seriously considered coming back later when it had mostly dispersed. However, curiosity got the better of me, so I walked closer to read a sign that had been placed against the side of the store. On it was a very large colour picture of a young wizard with flowing golden hair wearing robes of golden rod with matching gloves, scarf, and hat of jade green. The sign read, "New Release: _Magical Me!_" and above the door stretched a banner proclaiming, "GILDEROY LOCKHART will be signing copies of his autobiography _Magical Me_ today 12:30 P.M. to 4:30 P.M." _[1.]_

So that had to be the reason for the line. I'd heard of Lockhart, of course, simply from his constant appearance on the newspapers' best seller lists. I had always imagined him to be… well… more _mature _looking I suppose. From what I heard of his accomplishments, it seemed like they had been done by a powerful older wizard, where the wizard in the photo in front of me looked to be no more than thirty. His picture kept winking at me and flashing the most enormous, white smile I had ever seen. Rather intrigued, I pressed my way into the shop and found myself at the end of a line that wove all through the stacks of books from the A's (_Abracadabra? There's More to Magic Than You Think!: A Definitive Reference for the Inquiring Muggle_) all around to the T's (_Three Thousand Sumptuous Ways to Cook Squid)._ Well, I certainly wasn't going to wait in a line that long for some silly autograph from Lockhart, so I made my way to the back of the store to browse. Without consciously meaning to, I found myself in a section labelled, "Works by Hogwarts Teachers." There were three whole rows devoted to Headmaster Dumbledore alone, with almost just as many books by Professor Minerva McGonagall. Absentmindedly, I traced my fingers over the leather spines of works by Professor Snape. I had all of the titles here, but I did find one in a first edition print that was completely impossible to get at home. I picked that up along with Professor Sprout's _The Complete Healer's Guide to Medicinal Plants, _which I thought would be very useful since I would be apprenticing under her as well.

I squeezed past two _very_ voluptuous witches fixing each other's hair and worked my way slowly to the front to make my purchases. Glancing to the back of the store once more, I caught my first sight of Mr. Lockhart, who was sitting at a long table flanked by mountainous stacks of his books. He was flashing his toothy smile just like the photo outside and constantly running a hand through his golden curls. He was dressed in silk robes the colour of forget-me-nots, and with his other hand (the one that was not constantly attached to his head) he was signing books with an enormous peacock quill.

I couldn't help but stare, though for a much different reason than the middle-aged witches around me. They obviously thought him darling, but for me it was like being unable to tear your eyes away from a horrible car wreck or a house on fire. I really couldn't get over how incredibly stupid he looked. Shaking my head slightly to banish the sight of a grown wizard in pastels, I pushed through once more until I was in front of the checkout counter. A frazzled looking assistant stood behind it muttering to himself and shaking his head. He was slowly ticking things off a list with his quill, and it seemed like it was an inventory of Lockhart's books. I didn't envy him his job one bit at that moment.

"Excuse me," I said quietly. He looked up like I had screamed in his ear, his eyes bulging and his mouth hanging open.

"Of course, of course," he muttered and swept his papers to one side.

"So, these two and a copy of _Magical Me,_ correct? Or will you be wanting the entire Lockhart set in its limited-edition dragon-leather collector's slipcase?"

"Uh, I don't want a Lockhart book. These two only, please," I said, trying to keep from laughing. The assistant squinted his eyes suspiciously at me, his hand frozen in the air from where he had been stamping "PAID" on the inside covers of my books in golden ink.

"You… _don't _want _Magical Me_?" He sounded like I had said "No, I don't want that free bag of galleons you're giving away, thank you."

"No, I'm all set." The assistant shook his head and scooped my two books into a paper bag.

"That will be five galleons, please," the assistant said to me, his face looking quite like he had just eaten a spoonful of squid tartare. I had a sneaking suspicion that Flourish and Blotts had over-ordered on the Lockharts.

I paid quickly and scurried out of the store which was becoming increasingly warm and stuffy with the amount of people squeezed into it. I took a nice deep breath of fresh air outside and stretched my arms up to the sky. It was a wonderfully cool day for August which was lucky for I doubted I would have felt like shopping being all hot and sweaty.

I ducked into Madam Notion's Fyne Witch Attyre to try on some new dress robes. Deputy Headmistress McGonagall had suggested in her letter that I bring a set since Hogwarts did have some formal occasions throughout the year such as the annual Solstice Ball for fifth through seventh years the week before Christmas. Madam Notion herself happily outfitted me with two very stylish sets of robes, one deep rose and the other forest green, the sight of Lockhart having turned me off pastels for the moment, with delicate gold-thread embroidery. She also convinced me to buy three sets of gloves ("These elegant fashions are so _in_ now, dear"), four new pairs of shoes ("Two for evening, two for day wear…"), and a fur-trimmed coat ("Very cold winters they have up there at Hogwarts!"). With my purse considerably lighter, I made my last stop at The Magical Menagerie to pick up some more Kitty Kibbles and magic-motion mice for Caligula.

Back in my room at the Leaky Cauldron, I packed away my new purchases, placing my new books in my carry-on bag in case I was bored on the train. I spent the rest of the night playing poker with three old warlocks from Glasgow and managed to win back almost all of the money I had spent earlier in the day. Of course after that the warlocks refused to play anymore and kept shooting me dirty looks over dinner…

The next day, after some furtive last-minute packing, I arrived at King's Cross Station with little time to spare. Fortunately, Professor McGonagall's introductory letter provided me with a detailed description of how to find platform 9 and ¾. The station was absolutely packed with hurrying Muggles suddenly released from their jobs like hounds from a stifling hot kennel. Business men ran by me with their arms pumping their briefcases back and forth and their ties flying behind them like medieval knightly standards. I saw many tired middle-aged women desperately trying to keep one hand on three or more children while balancing in the other multiple parcels from a day's shopping in town.

Following the signs, I found myself easily on the walkway between platforms nine and ten. I dragged my laden trolley behind me, cursing myself for deciding to wear heels. Even though the sun was low on the horizon, sweat dripped from my forehead, and I was looking forward to nothing more than a nice iced pumpkin juice on the train. Standing next to a column, I glanced nonchalantly at the departing train on track ten before pushing myself and my trolley sideways through the barrier. It was even simpler than I had thought. A slight whoosh of air blew past my face, and I was suddenly in front of the Northbound Hogwarts Commuter train; the Hogwarts Express only ran for the students.

A kind porter aided me with the stowing of my larger bags and gently deposited an irate, puffed-up Caligula in the animals' compartment. I glanced at the large station clock as I boarded, 4:50 P.M., and breathed a sigh of relief that I had _actually made it!_ The train was mostly empty since most London-working wizards chose to Apparate or use the Floo Network to go home. This commuter train ran only once a week for those who preferred or, like me, required other means of transportation. I spotted one elderly witch looking out the window while three small canaries circled her head, apparently refusing to be caged for the journey. I made my way to the middle of the first car; no use walking farther than needed! I slid open the door and gratefully fell into the red plush seat. I had just closed my eyes for a minute when a jaunty rapping on the compartment door snapped me to attention. I glanced over and standing in the doorway, if you could believe it, was Gilderoy Lockhart!

Lockhart flashed me one of his mile-wide smiles and said cheerfully, "Mind if I sit here? I find traveling by one's lonesome dreadfully dreary, pardon the pun!"

_What pun?_ I thought to myself, but replied politely, "Not at all. Please," and gestured to the seat across from me, never guessing how much personal anguish I could have saved myself by simply yelling, "Beat it, you pastel freak!"

Yes, once again, Lockhart was dressed head to toe in a matching pastel ensemble, this time the palest mint green. He also held a mint green satin clutch bag. Lockhart took the seat across from me and held out one of his white gloved hands. I shook it reluctantly, wondering how on earth he had made it through crowds of Muggles looking like that. Maybe they just thought he was gay…

"I know it's probably immensely _silly_ to bother introducing myself, but I feel that proper introductions are just one of those wonderful, quaint formalities that seem to be disappearing from society. As you know, I am Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defence League, and Five Time Winner of _Witch Weekly's_ Most Charming Smile Award, but," and he tapped his nose with a leathered-finger, "I have a sneaking suspicion that count will be up to six with December's vote!" He sat back and smiled at me, obviously wanting some sort of congratulation.

"Oh, that's wonderful news," I lied. "My name is Avrille Asphodel and I'm…" I began, thinking I should add _something_ to my name to compare with his impressive list, but he cut me off before I could even start.

"-Great Scott!" Lockhart clapped a hand to his forehead. "I should be introducing myself as _Professor_ Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defence League, and Five-Probably-Six Time Winner of _Witch Weekly's_ Most Charming Smile Award!"

"P…Professor?" I asked weakly.

"Yes! I've been hired as the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry! Seems there was some sort of accident with the last teacher. If you want my opinion, they should have asked for me last year and saved themselves that bit of trouble! But then again, I was currently touring the continent promoting advanced sales of _Magical Me_, so I cannot say that I would have been able to accept…"

Lockhart amazed me with his ability to talk without taking a single breath or breaking his perfectly symmetrical smile. By now, the train had begun moving, and I groaned inwardly knowing that I would now have to see this babbling narcissist daily. The thought really made me wonder about Professor Dumbledore's mental state. I mean, _hiring Lockhart!_ Well, perhaps he figured that Lockhart's immense experience would counterbalance his insane personality.

"So, would you like the one of me on my broomstick?" Lockhart's question jarred me back to his conversation.

"I'm sorry… what?" I asked, wondering how that question could have relevance in _any_ conversation, let alone the one he was having happily by himself.

"Well, it's obvious that you want my autograph. Most people are too shy to ask, you know, all that fear of celebrities not being like real people. I mean, I try my best to relate to the common witch and wizard, but I'm only one undeniably talented and handsome man, and it is no easy task. So, would you like your autograph on this picture?" he asked once more, and this time I noticed he was holding up several glossy black and whites of himself, the most prominent one indeed of him reclining on a speeding broomstick.

"Sure," I said hurriedly, wanting to get this embarrassment over with as quickly as possible. Lockhart pulled out a large eagle quill, not as fine as his peacock one, and scrawled across the bottom in a loopy cursive, "To Miss Anderson, my most adoring fan. Ever Magical, Professor Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin Third Class _et cetera_." He handed it to me when the ink was dry like it was the greatest reward in the world. Luckily at that moment, the refreshment trolley came to our compartment, and while Lockhart was distracted ordering a Pink Pixie with extra grenadine (what the _hell!_) I quickly buried the photograph in my carry-on. I would simply die of mortification if anyone at Hogwarts saw me carrying something as pathetic as that.

The trolley-witch left, and Lockhart appeared ready to release another torrent of oh-so-stimulating banter about his numerous awards. Before he could begin, I forced an overtly loud yawn and gave my regrets, but I really needed to rest since I did not sleep well the night before.

"That's quite all right! I have reams of work to get through myself, you know… lesson plans, book signing schedules, and I cannot seem to finish the colour scheme for my office!"

Stifling a snicker, I bade Lockhart luck and turned toward the window with my face buried in my arms. I really was very tired and glad that it gave me a legitimate excuse to tone out Lockhart's company for a few hours. However, after only three of the eight plus hours the trip would take had passed, I awoke and found myself unable to get back to sleep. Seeing my alertness, Lockhart dove right back into an explanation of the difficulties of forming a colour scheme built completely around the exact shade of his blue eyes, and how he had bought out the meagre forget-me-not supplies of practically every textile shop in Diagon Alley without finding the proper hue. Thanks to two hours of that highly engrossing topic and a highly detailed recount of his latest book release party, I did manage to fall back asleep very easily. I only woke once briefly to the slightly disturbing sight of _Professor_ Lockhart discreetly applying eye cream with his pinkies, aided by a levitating compact mirror. I guess he didn't want to show up at Hogwarts with under-eye baggies.

At long last, the train pulled into the Hogsmeade Station at quarter to two in the morning. Feeling worse for my naps, I grudgingly gathered my things and followed Lockhart off the train onto the platform where there was awaiting us the most gigantic man I had ever seen. He wasn't fat, however, just… huge! He had to have been twice as tall as me and three times as broad as Lockhart. Lockhart whispered to me, "Probably part ogre, you know. Seen lots of _them_ in Kazakhstan…"

"Evenin'," our amazing greeter said cheerfully, "I'm Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts. Professor Dumbledore sent me down to meecha two and to getcha situated." He gave a "little" bow to Lockhart saying, "Professor Lockhart, sir… heard all about yeh, o' course!" Then he turned to me and held out a hand the size of a frying pan, "An' yeh must be Mistress Asphodel. A pleasure it is, miss!" I took his hand happily and returned his cheery smile with one of my own.

As I got a grip on Caligula's carry-case, Mr. Hagrid took control of my trolley, leaving Lockhart to his own means. The air in Hogsmeade was fragrant and sweet like it was wafting toward us from the window of a sweets store. Of course I later learned that its smell _was_ mostly due to the all-night cooking of Honeydukes to be ready for customers in the morning. The night was perfectly clear with hundreds of stars strung throughout the heavens.

Mr. Hagrid led us through the station gates where on the street stood a magnificent mahogany coach. I stumbled when I saw what pulled it: a thestral. I had never seen one before, but I had read about them and seen artist renditions in books. I also knew that if I ever did see one I would, well, _see_ it. Upon noticing the carriage and what must have seemed to him to be an empty set of shafts, Lockhart laughed merrily and said, "Ingenious! A carriage without the need of a horse! Whatever will Dumbledore think of next?" and climbed aboard. Mr. Hagrid gave him a polite smile then looked at me and saw the recognition on my face.

"It s'alright, miss," he said quietly and placed his large hand on my shoulder, "she's harmless." He looked at Lockhart already happily situated. "Can' blame his ignorance. Probably lucky he can' see 'er anyway." Personally I found it rather odd that Lockhart couldn't see the thestral after all of the encounters with Dark creatures he had had. Certainly he had seen death before…

Mr. Hagrid motioned for me to get into the carriage too while he saw to the stowing of our baggage on top. Then he somehow managed to board the carriage himself, forcing me to squeeze unhappily close to Lockhart, who smelled like lavender oil and facial powder. Caligula emitted a low growl once he realized he was not going to be free yet. I think he also probably found Lockhart's proximity just as offensive as I did.

With a quick double rap on the wall behind him, Mr. Hagrid signalled for the thestral to move. We were quickly propelled toward the castle but very bumpily. It was not a mode of transportation I would have chosen in the future. But fortunately, uncomfortable through the ride was, it was over in a few minutes.

Since Lockhart held the window captive, the first sight of Hogwarts I was allowed came as we awkwardly disembarked with the grace of a drunken hippopotamus. We were standing in a large cobblestoned cul-de-sac that swept around a colossal fountain. The grounds around the castle seemed immense and were spread out over rocky vales and sweeping forest. In the distance, I could see the edge of a vast black lake that lay as still as an obsidian slate in the breezeless night. Hogwarts itself was breathtakingly beautiful with its rough granite walls thick with ivy that seemed to climb all the way to the heavens and interrupted only by countless stained glass windows. I had to tip my head completely back to take in every towering spire stretching into the night sky. The immenseness of the castle only further clenched the anxiety that had been gnawing in my stomach since my arrival on the train. I could easily surmise that twenty Boston Witches' Academies could have fit inside the cavernous edifice in front of me with room to spare.

By now Mr. Hagrid had unloaded the baggage and lifted it onto his shoulder while motioning for us to follow him. We climbed the prodigious stone steps, Mr. Hagrid taking three at a time, the only noise the thudding of Mr. Hagrid's boots and the quiet chirps of bats flying overhead. At the top of the steps, a vast pair of oak doors magically swung open to admit us into a large, shadowy entrance hall. In front of us, another marble staircase climbed into the unseen, to the right was a long, wide corridor, and to the left was another pair of oak doors practically as large as the ones we had just passed through. These doors, however, remained closed.

"Professor Dumbledore wishes ter see yeh before yeh get all settled," Mr. Hagrid said. He placed my luggage down by the stairs and motioned Lockhart to as well. I placed Caligula on top of my trunk. "These'll be brough' to yer rooms in a mo'. We'd better see the headmaster now, if tha's alright." Lockhart and I nodded in agreement and followed Mr. Hagrid up the stairs.

When the stairs wrapped around themselves once, I saw that they branched off into a series of other flights that seemed to stretch to the very top tower. My breath caught as I looked at the spectacle before me as several staircases shifted to different landings with a rumbling groan. The walls were entirely covered with paintings, their occupants either snoozing lightly or gazing down on us with lazy looks.

Mr. Hagrid led us up six more staircases, making me guess that the inhabitants of Hogwarts must be in excellent shape. We took a corridor that branched off and seemed to lead to a dead end. Mr. Hagrid led the way confidently nevertheless and stopped at the end were there stood a large statue of a stone gargoyle that seemed to be blocking some sort of archway. Mr. Hagrid stopped directly in front of the gargoyle, scratching his head.

"Ah, what's the password… Oh, righ'! Lemon drop!" Mr. Hagrid called out confidently and the gargoyle sprang to one side revealing a hollow containing a spiralling stair. Mr. Hagrid held out an arm for Lockhart and me to precede him. I stepped onto the revolving stair which reminded me rather of escalators in Muggle malls. Lockhart came next, hitching up his mint green robes to reveal black, heeled leather boots. Mr. Hagrid followed lastly, hunching over and sucking in his gut to fit in the small rotating chamber.

When I reached the top, I saw before me a large shining oak door with a bronze knocker shaped like a griffin. I took a deep breath and knocked quietly. Lockhart and Mr. Hagrid had both reached the top now and were pressing me rather uncomfortably in the small space. Fortunately, the door opened right away to admit us into a large circular office. Portraits of dozens of sleeping witches and wizards adorned the walls in the few spaces not covered with bookshelves. Numerous silver instruments were strewn about on spindly tables, and to my left an enormous golden bird perched with its head resting under its wing.

"Ah! Hagrid!" a voice to my right called. Albus Dumbledore, for it could only be he, stepped out from behind the opened door where he had apparently been browsing his books. He was still dressed in his daywear composing of elegant navy velvet robes that made his long hair and beard glisten like silver. His aged face broke into a large, friendly smile when he saw me.

"Mistress Asphodel," he said as he extended a wizened hand from his robes. He then surprised (and charmed) me greatly by taking my hand and bringing it lightly to his lips. "I am most enchanted to finally meet you," he said as he clasped my hand with both of his. His hands were warm and surprisingly soft.

Then he turned to Lockhart, who had already extended his hand in greeting. "And Gilderoy, so glad you've arrived," Professor Dumbledore said as he shook Lockhart's hand. I could have sworn that he also gave me the tiniest of winks while Lockhart was looking down to adjust his robes. The headmaster looked up at a magnificent clock over his desk at the far end of the room as it chimed for two-thirty.

"Well, I hardly wish to keep you at this late hour. I'm delighted to see you both have arrived without trouble, and I am eager to talk with you in depth tomorrow at breakfast. For now," Professor Dumbledore motioned to Mr. Hagrid who had hung back by the door, "Hagrid will show you to your rooms so you can settle in for the night. Breakfast is at nine o'clock. I look forward to seeing you both there!" With that, Professor Dumbledore gave a little bow and stepped back to allow Mr. Hagrid to open the door once more.

I had to admit that my mind was much more relaxed as we took the staircase back down. Professor Dumbledore seemed a truly wonderful man, and most of the anxiety I had felt about starting at Hogwarts seemed to vanish when I saw his twinkling blue eyes. Mr. Hagrid led the way back down the dead-end corridor to where several others branched off before leading to the changing stairs.

"Yer room'll be righ' down here, Mistress Asphodel," Mr. Hagrid said as he clumped his way down the almost all of the stairs we had climbed and led us down a smaller corridor that diverged from a main one. We passed several rusted suits of armour which whistled and wheezed slightly as well as more portraits including a rather amusing one of five vampires playing dominoes. Mr. Hagrid stopped outside a sturdy door across from a tapestry of three young unicorns who were amusing themselves by taking turns jumping over a large rip down the center of the fabric.

"This is it," he said as he reached into the pockets of his large moleskin coat. From a deep inside pocket, Mr. Hagrid pulled out a large iron ring of keys of all different sizes ranging from ones as small as my pinkie finger to ones as long as the average wand. After a minute of fiddling, Mr. Hagrid managed to remove a rather medium-sized key and held it up for me to see.

"This'll be yers alone; no one else'll have a copy. Dumbledore allows fer staff ter add any spells yeh may want for extra protections, but I reckon yeh won' need 'em. Hogwarts students mind their own business." With that, he fit the key into the lock and gave it a sharp wiggle. The door sprang open and instantly alight were several candelabra throughout the room as well as a large fireplace by the door.

"Well, I'll leave yeh to it then," Mr. Hagrid said as he handed me the key. "I'll come round ten o' nine if yeh like to bring yeh to breakfast."

"Yes, that would be great. Thank you so much," I said and squeezed Mr. Hagrid's massive hand with both of mine. Lockhart was starting to poke his head curiously around the door, but Mr. Hagrid backed up suddenly and almost set him sprawling. Stifling a laugh, I said, "Good night, Mr. Hagrid. And good night, Professor Lockhart." Both nodded their heads at me then turned back to go to the main staircases.

I shut the door, grateful for a moment's peace. However, it was quickly interrupted by a series of loud yowls coming from the next room. I hurried through to find Caligula had already been brought up with my luggage and was fighting to get out of his case. His frantic pacing was making him very close to tipping off the edge of the bureau on which he had been placed. I sighed and walked over to open the case door. Caligula purred appreciatively and began to sniff out every inch of the room, ignoring his toy mousie I had taken from my pocket and thrown across the floor.

I turned to take in my new rooms. My bedroom was absolutely lovely and consisted of an old mahogany wardrobe and dresser and a large four-post canopy bed with tapestry hangings. The bedroom led to a comfortably sized bathroom with marble tiles. Turning back to the parlour, I saw that it was styled very much in the same manner as the bedroom with mahogany furniture, but the upholstery and curtains in the parlour were dark maroon as opposed to the bedroom's ice blue. There were several bookshelves lining the walls filled with interesting-looking volumes that I couldn't wait to delve into. However, despite my naps on the train, the sights of Hogwarts had utterly exhausted me, so I took the necessities out of my trunk and prepared for bed.

A lovely moonlight was filtering in through the bedroom windows as I extinguished the lamps. After climbing into my luxuriously comfortable bed, I contented myself to stare out through the tall windows at the starry sky before falling into a deep, dreamless sleep.

The next morning I awoke just as the bell was tolling half past eight, and a good thing too since Mr. Hagrid had said he would be over to fetch me in twenty minutes. I reluctantly crawled out of bed and opened a window to let in the fresh late-August air. I regretted not putting away my things while I picked unceremoniously through my clothes trying to find something suitable for my first day at Hogwarts. I finally settled on a simple green linen dress under a goldenrod summer robe, hoping breakfast wasn't anything fancy. I had just finished brushing my hair when a resounding knock thundered through my apartment and seemed to threaten to bash the door off its hinges. I quickly opened it to reveal a beaming Mr. Hagrid who apologized for his over-zealousness.

"Jus' wanted to make sure yeh were up!" he proclaimed as he offered his arm to me. I had to admit that being escorted somewhere by Mr. Hagrid reminded me rather of wrapping my arm around the leg of an elephant. As we walked down the several staircases to the ground floor, Mr. Hagrid pointed out various classrooms and areas of interest to try to help me become acquainted with the castle as soon as possible.

"Blimey," he said as we waited for the staircase we were on to stop moving to another platform, "I remember me firs' day here… Took me a week jus' to remember how to get back to me common room!"

"You were a student here?" I inquired with interest.

Mr. Hagrid's hairy face flushed. "Ah, well, was once. Got expelled though… Long story." Mr. Hagrid seemed rather embarrassed by the topic, so I changed the subject and asked him what sort of animals he looked after as gamekeeper. With this, he noticeably perked up and spent the rest of the hike down to the Great Hall telling me about his pet dragon, Norbert, who he had taken care of for a little while last year.

"'Course I couldn' keep a dragon in me hut, so I had to send 'im to live in a colony with others like 'im. Wish I knew how he was doin', though," Mr. Hagrid murmured as we crossed the entrance hall and stopped in front of the massive doors I had seen last night when we entered the castle.

Mr. Hagrid gripped one of the enormous iron rings on the door and wrenched it open, allowing me to pass through first. I gasped aloud at my first glimpse of the Great Hall. Even though I had skimmed _Hogwarts, A History_ before coming here, it did not prepare me for the immense spectacle of it all. The ceiling really did mirror the real sky, but it was such a cunning reproduction that had it not been for the fact that the rain overhead did not wet the room I could have believed it to be not a ceiling at all. Ominous, blue-black clouds swirled menacingly together while spewing forth fat rain droplets that faded a dozen feet above the ground. Looking up at Mr. Hagrid I saw that the rain _was, _in fact, real, coating the top of his bushy hair in a mist of silver.

He grinned at me, touching his head, and muttered, "Happens a lot ter me. No one else tall 'nough ter be bothered by it though!"

The hall was very deep and consisted of four finely carved tables that stretched its whole length. At the end of the hall was a raised platform where the staff were currently sitting, some gazing interestedly at our entrance. Mr. Hagrid led me back to them with his casual swagger that more than once almost sent me crashing into the long table next to me. A knot was slowly winding its way around my stomach like last night, choking my breath. There were only slightly more than a half-dozen teachers currently there, but I was nervous as if the Great Hall were filled with them. I immediately saw Professor Snape seated at one of the ends and noted with amusement that he had kept an empty chair between himself and Lockhart. I could feel those dark, melancholic eyes studying me as I came nearer.

Headmaster Dumbledore rose as we approached with a warm smile and a twinkling in his eye that once again helped to dispel most of my nerves. "Ah!" he said, "and here they are!" He motioned toward the stairs which I took so quickly I nearly stumbled. Mr. Hagrid helped himself to a seat near the stairs while Professor Dumbledore beckoned me to his side. He placed a kind hand on my shoulder.

"This is Mistress Avrille Asphodel whom I told you all about. She will be apprenticing under Severus and Pomona this year. Why don't you take a seat there, my dear," he said to me and pointed to-oh wonderful-the empty place between Lockhart and Professor Snape. Professor Snape gave me a slight nod of recognition and stood to pull out my chair for me. Wondering what on earth he must be thinking right now, I whispered a thank you and sat, feeling his presence move from behind to the seat beside me.

Seeing everyone was settled, Professor Dumbledore continued, "Let me quickly introduce the rest of the staff to you before we begin the meal. This is Minerva McGonagall, our Deputy Headmistress and professor of Transfiguration," he said with an open palm to a mature witch to his right. She wore her hair in a severe bun and looked like one not to cross, though she gave me a tight smile nevertheless. "To her right is Professor Filius Flitwick, master of Charms." Professor Flitwick was a tiny old man with fluffy white hair who waved a small hand enthusiastically at me. "And, of course, you traveled with our new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor, Gilderoy Lockhart, on the train so no introductions needed there!" Lockhart winked at me as though we were sharing some sort of private joke.

"And on the end next to you is our Potions master under whom you'll be studying, Severus Snape." Professor Snape looked at me with an unreadable expression and his arms crossed but said nothing. I felt my face flush, but Professor Dumbledore was not quite finished.

"To my left here is Madam Pomfrey, our excellent nurse. I'm sure she'll be all too happy to give you an insider's look at healing." Madam Pomfrey gave me a warm look and inclined her head toward me. "Then, of course, there is Pomona Sprout, our learned Herbology professor. I'm sure you'll be spending plenty of time in her hothouses." Professor Sprout was a stout little witch with wild grey hair but a face so friendly one could not help liking her instantly. "Next down is Madam Rolanda Hooch, Hogwarts' flying instructor and foremost authority on Quidditch. She also referees the school matches." Madam Hooch had sharp features and reminded me very much of an owl, the thought facilitated by her spiky grey hair and golden eyes.

"And last is Professor Lavinia Sinistra, head of the Astronomy department." Professor Sinistra was a young witch, probably no more than twenty-nine or thirty, with long flowing black hair and skin as pale as moonlight. "Of course, we have many more teachers here, but they have not all arrived back yet from summer holiday. You'll meet them soon enough, I suppose. Well, if that's all settled, let us all tuck in!"

At his final words, the table was instantaneously filled with every sort of tantalizing breakfast food imaginable: heaps of fluffy scrambled eggs, towers of buttery toast, mounds of fresh croissants, biscuits, scones and muffins, stacks of pancakes (plain, blueberry, banana and chocolate chip), plates of ham, bacon and sausages, bowls overflowing with fruit salad and stewed tomatoes, pitchers filled with icy pumpkin and orange juice, pots of rich coffee and sweet teas…all spread out in front of me begging to be eaten. I also noticed some specialty items on the table in front of professors who had apparently requested them; Professor Dumbledore immediately dug into a large breakfast burrito, Mr. Hagrid was smiling down at four thick steaks topped with fried eggs and Tabasco sauce, and Professor Sprout contented herself with nothing more than a grapefruit half. My mouth watered instantly; I had had barely anything to eat since my last lunch at the Leaky Cauldron almost twenty-four hours ago. I took as much food as I dared, not wanting to seem like a gluttonous pig, and ate up gratefully.

However, _much_ to my chagrin, Lockhart immediately reinstated his thread of conversation that I hoped had ended when we disembarked the train.

"Professor Dumbledore was kind enough this morning to recommend a seamstress in Hogsmeade for me to try…thousands of swatches lying around…might just be the thing to bring my quarters together! Of course, I could very well _survive _furnished as it is now. I've gone months without proper shelter, you know, a season in Transylvania hunting vampires here, a summer in a haunted Russian forest there… Even had to spend most of January two years ago in an igloo provided by some very kind Inuit natives. They, of course, were only too obliging once I rid their glacier of the fearsome Abominable Snowman! But that Professor Quirrell before me really left the place in such a state of disarray! It was as if he were too busy to even tidy up the place once in a while, and I must proclaim that I find the lingering odour of garlic _most_ disagreeable…"

I really thought I would die if he kept talking. It was bad enough having to pretend to listen attentively, but his constant chattering was quickly making me lose my appetite. Fortunately, my discomfort must have been radiating like a beacon for Professor Flitwick politely interrupted Professor Lockhart and proceeded to ask him questions about his books. I sighed with relief and turned back to my toast.

"I pity your spending the trip from London with _that_." a low voice dripping with disdain muttered into my right ear. I almost shivered at Professor Snape's proximity, his breath raising the little hairs on my neck.

"I tried to think of it as a character-building exercise," I replied and turned to look Professor Snape, who had sat back once more, his eyes focused on Lockhart. His glance hardened for a moment then flitted back to me. For the first time, I noticed that his eyes were not brown like mine as I had thought, but a dark, piercing grey; the same colour as storm clouds over the ocean.

"So we meet again, although much more formally this time," he said, louder than his first comment.

"Yes. I'm… I'm so sorry about last week. You see, I had no idea who you were, and I feel like such an idiot about it… Almost breaking your neck and making you late for the lecture and all that. I was just so mortified…" I trailed off, poking at my eggs with the prongs of my golden fork.

"Did you enjoy the lecture nevertheless?" he asked in complete seriousness.

"Oh yes!" I said shyly, turning back toward him. "It was absolutely fascinating."

Professor Snape held me fixated with one of his haunting stares before replying, "Then there is nothing to worry about." With that he turned back to his own meal leaving me to snippets of Professors Lockhart's and Flitwick's conversation ("Was preying on five villages in the area, you know! Absolutely devastating!").

When breakfast was over, the food vanished, and all the plates were magically clean once more. Everyone at the table rose except for me since I had no idea what I was supposed to do. Professor Snape swept from the hall through a door behind the staff table without any further acknowledgement of my presence. I thought perhaps I was simply to return to my rooms, so I got up as well and made to leave, nervously wondering if I would be able to find the way back by myself. Fortunately at that moment, Professor Dumbledore called out my name and gestured for me to join him at his side once more. I saw now that Professor Sprout had remained behind as well and looked quite beside herself with delight.

"Avrille," Professor Dumbledore said when I reached the pair of them, "Professor Sprout wishes very much to show you the school hothouses now, if you have no current plans."

"That would be lovely!" I exclaimed. In truth, I simply couldn't wait to see what sort of flora Hogwarts kept.

"Excellent, then, excellent," Professor Dumbledore said. "Professor Snape has offered to give you a tour of his classrooms in the dungeons and an introduction Tuesday morning if that is agreeable as well." With that, Professor Dumbledore gave us a polite little bow before disappearing through the same door as Professor Snape. I stood rooted to the spot, slightly relieved that I didn't have to spend time alone with Professor Snape until after the weekend. I couldn't deny that I was looking forward to it…a lot…but I just couldn't help feeling like he thought I was some silly little girl he had to baby-sit.

"Come now, my dear, shall we go?" Professor Sprout asked and descended the platform stairs with her skirts hitched up over her ankles. I was pleased to see that unlike Lockhart's shining designer boots of last night, Professor Sprout wore simple suede boots of brown, but then again that could have just been all of the dirt caking them. Fighting back a smile, I followed Professor Sprout out of the Great Hall.

_[1.]_From _Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets_, by J.K. Rowling, Page 58 (US paperback edition)


	4. Chapter Four: SEVERUS

CHAPTER FOUR

_Severus_

After breakfast I walked straight down to the dungeons, unable to reckon with what cruel Fate had suddenly thrown my way. I barely noticed arriving at and opening the door to my office; my mind was absolutely consumed with the incredible inconvenience which had just arisen with my "meeting" Mistress Asphodel. I just couldn't believe the coincidence that my apprentice turned out to be the Canadian witch who had run into me before my lecture.

The witch whom I had not stopped thinking about for the past six straight days.

I sat down at my desk and tried to come to terms with the fact that both that woman and my enigmatic apprentice were the same person. Since my meeting with the headmaster on Monday, I had spent the week reading through Mistress Asphodel's R.A.T. From evaluating her work, which was uncommonly insightful and detailed, I had begun to form a mental picture of the author as a sort of young Minerva McGonagall-type, complete with square spectacles. Never had I imagined that Mistress Asphodel would turn out to be so… well…

When I had returned from London, I tried vainly to bury myself in my work and push the fleeting encounter with the "Canadian witch" (since she had left me no name to know her by) from my mind. But I realised it harder than I would have thought to simply forget about her. I found myself researching an answer to her lecture question and writing her a response letter, even though I had no idea where to send it. I couldn't explain it, but it felt as though when she had run into me in the hallway of Saint Mungo's she had actually jarred my senses. After the lecture, the realisation began to sink in of how incredibly self-absorbed I had been the last _decade_. So self-absorbed that it took an actual collision for me to even notice a beautiful woman, and then not even have the common sense or courtesy to ask her name or introduce myself.

Yet, in spite of everything, as the week progressed and my memory of her faded, I had begun to slip back into my old mind-set. After all, I knew so very well what a dangerous and destructive power "love" was. I knew if I wanted to protect myself it was something to be avoided at all costs.

But then when I saw her entering the hall with Hagrid this morning, all of last Saturday's emotions came flooding back to me with the realisation that my "burdensome" apprentice was none other than the young woman who had captivated my mind all week. Alone now in the quiet, I reflected on my actions and was glad that I put off meeting with Mistress Asphodel for a couple days.

Of course I blamed the circumstances over the course of last year and this passing summer as the reason for my sudden emotional instability. Just as I had quelled my frustration over Dumbledore's apparent lack of concern for the odd behaviour of Quirrell, who turned out to be completely possessed by the Dark Lord, the headmaster overlooked me _once again_ for the Defence Against the Dark Arts position and gave it to perhaps the most pretentious, obnoxious wizard ever to walk the face of the earth. I couldn't understand the injustice of it all; my warnings ignored and then not even being rewarded for my correct assumptions. Of course, Dumbledore cited his belief that I was too valuable as his Potions master and "where in the world would he ever find anyone competent to replace me," should I be given the Defence job. I suppose he had his reasons.

Shadows played before my eyes as I stared at the mortar wall, my untended fire dying down to embers. As I watched the light slowly fade away, I came to the conclusion that my sudden interest in Mistress Asphodel was completely circumstantial, and I would do best to try and forget all about whatever I might have been starting to feel towards her.

With a wave of my hand, I extinguished the last light and plunged myself into darkness.

Tuesday morning dawned much more quickly than I would have liked, for with it came the responsibility of having to spend my first day with Mistress Asphodel as well as heralding the start of the school year; the students would be arriving at sundown.

I had told Mistress Asphodel last night at dinner to come down to my office at eleven in the morning for her introduction. Although I had been tempted to ask Pomona her opinion of our apprentice, I resisted and decided to find out for myself.

At ten minutes of eleven, I was rather surprised when a knock sounded on my door as I was perusing my class rosters. The last apprentice I had supervised believed his own schedule to be too valuable to show up on time, let alone early. Yet the surprise soon turned to annoyance as I realised that seeing Mistress Asphodel again would most likely summon the return of those… feelings.

"Enter," I said as calmly and coolly as possible. Mistress Asphodel opened the door and slid lithely through. My God, she was beautiful; and even worse, I knew she was intelligent.

I looked back down and shuffled through the rosters. "Mistress Asphodel, when I asked you to come to my office, I believe I stipulated the time to be eleven o'clock, not ten minutes before or ten minutes after."

She was quiet for a beat then replied, "I'm sorry. I'll be more mindful of the clock from now on. Shall I wait outside for the remaining time?" I glanced up, expecting some sort of cheeky smirk, but was again surprised to see that she was completely serious and standing with her hand still on the door latch. I stifled the sudden urge to laugh.

"That will not be necessary. You may sit until I am ready for you." I pointed to the chairs near the fireplace with my quill. Mistress Asphodel took the nearest chair and turned it to face my desk. She sat down carefully, her hands folded delicately on her lap. To be perfectly honest, I had no idea why I was acting like a pedantic moron, but at the moment it seemed the only way that I was going to get through this morning without having some sort of episode whenever I looked at her.

Unfortunately, even though I had returned my attention to the paperwork in front of me and thus removed Mistress Asphodel from my actual view, I could still see a perfect image of her branded into my mind's eye. This morning she was wearing robes of burnt umber which gave her porcelain skin the illusion of glowing in the firelight. The colour of the robes also accented the red in her russet hair, which at the moment was hanging loosely over her shoulders and down her back, perfectly framing her lovely heart-shaped face. The brief sight alone of Mistress Asphodel crossing her shapely legs and adjusting the hem of her knee-length skirt had been enough to send a blazing arrow of pure lust shooting through my bloodstream. After an intense struggle to inwardly compose myself, I found that I was checking off a class list that I had already reviewed five minutes prior. I quickly flipped it to the bottom of the pile and willed all of my concentration back to the task at hand.

The next few minutes I spent signing off on all of the remaining rosters. Since I felt like I was now bound by my own insistence on punctuality, I shuffled papers around on my desk, hoping that it didn't look as completely useless as it was. Finally, the clock above the mantel sounded the first stroke of eleven. If I had wanted to be a real bastard I would have made her wait until the eleventh stroke before further acknowledging her, but even I realised that was a bit much. With a gesture of my hand, I beckoned her to move to the chair positioned directly across from me. She immediately came over, her eagerness betrayed in the way she pulled the chair closer so she could rest her elbows on the desk. I found this absolutely charming.

"Now, Mistress Asphodel-" I began, with the clock chiming quietly in the background.

"-Oh, please," she interrupted with a shy smile, "If you would, call me Avrille. 'Mistress Asphodel' just seems so formal." I inwardly wished that I could call her by name, perhaps in a soft whisper against her ear while I ran my fingers through her long silken tresses, but at the moment formality was all I had.

"While you are working for me I shall address you as 'Mistress Asphodel,' and you shall address me as 'Professor Snape.' Is that understood?"

"Yes, sir," she replied quietly, sitting back against the chair.

"The 'sir' won't be necessary."

"Yes s-… I understand."

"As I was saying," I began again, "today begins the first official day of your apprenticeship. Right now I will give you the basic guidelines I will expect you to follow as long as you are apprenticing under me, then I shall give you a brief tour of the facilities." Avrille nodded solemnly and sat forward in her chair once again.

"The core of the apprenticeship will be class-time observation. It is my aim to have you observe at least two classes of each House from each year before the end of the first term. Since the purpose of your apprenticeship is to prepare you for your own classes someday, I do not expect for you to completely cast your teaching style from mine. Perhaps some professors would be flattered or even insistent on it, but I am just as interested in what you disagreed with from what you observed as what you liked.

"You may choose to include in your written evaluations what you would have done differently in a certain situation had you been the teacher, though I strongly advise that you back up your suggestions with valid studied citation or a flawlessly airtight argument. You are going to be responsible for the intellectual development of thousands of students over the course of your career, so every single decision over the way you decide to teach could have far-reaching consequences. Although currently you may have the factual knowledge needed to be a professor, you have none of the experience that is essential for creating a successful classroom. Every student is an undetermined variable in your plan. You must be prepared for every possible contingency. Now is the time to glean as much experience as you can while you still have relatively little personal responsibility.

"As for specific guidelines, first off, I expect you to arrive punctually to every class of mine that you will be observing as well as any appointments we keep. For the classes you may arrive early, if you wish, but for appointments with me, I ask that you not.

"Secondly, I expect the written evaluation of every class you observe the first term to be handed in no later than three days after the observation. I presume Professor Sprout has outlined her requirements to you, and I apologise if mine are slightly more demanding. Since I expect more of my students, I expect that much more from my apprentices. Each evaluation should be on average three roles of parchment, less if the content is especially profound. After the first term, if I deem that you have a sufficient grasp of the classes and progressions, you may stop handing in written evaluations. I would recommend that you keep your own written records from that time on, however, since I will still be discussing class time in length during your scheduled assessments. You might find referencing them to be helpful. Do you understand all of this so far?"

Avrille nodded and seemed as though she wanted to ask something.

I motioned for her to speak. "Please, I do encourage that you ask questions whenever you have need to."

"Thank you," she replied. "I was wondering if I may still hand in written evaluations after first term ends if I wish, and if you wouldn't mind."

Did I hear that right? Was she asking voluntarily for additional work? "Yes, of course," I said. "Although you'll have to forgive me if I do not have time to read them all right away when it is closer to exam time. However, if that is something that will make you feel more confident in your progress, then I would be willing to oblige you.

"Besides the written evaluations, I will ask that you aid me with other things throughout the year such as keeping things generally orderly and organised. Later in the term, I will ask you to mark some of the younger students' assignments, which I will then check over before handing them back. All this combined should amply prepare you for the culmination of your apprenticeship which, of course, is your final evaluation where you shall be teaching a day of classes yourself. If you follow my guidelines and instruction then I am confident you will succeed admirably.

"If you have no more questions, I shall now show you the classrooms." I stood and Avrille stood as well. As I held my office door open for her, she passed me with a gracious smile, the scent of jasmine lingering in the air for the briefest of moments before dissipating. I locked the door and led the way down the dimly lit main corridor. Avrille followed a pace behind me.

A ways down, I turned into the larger dungeon. As we entered, the torches flared alight. The headmaster had charmed the lights in every room that Avrille would be likely to enter so that they would illuminate automatically, saving her the worry of struggling to light them with magic.

"This is the main dungeon where most of my classes are held and where you will be spending the majority of your observation time. It's rather self-explanatory. Students are required to supply their own cauldrons, standard equipment, and common ingredients. Over there, by the sinks, are the student stores which provide whatever additional materials the students might need for the particular assignment of the day. On the days you observe, one of your duties will be to review the assigned potion and stock the student cabinets accordingly before the start of class. It will be your responsibility to make sure that there are enough ingredients for each student and that they are not given access to things they should not have." Avrille nodded in understanding.

"Over here," I said, walking across the room, "are my private ingredient stores where you will find everything you need to prepare for class. The door is always kept locked, and to prevent student-theft, it cannot be opened by simple unlocking spells. Therefore, you will need this." I pulled out the spare storeroom key and handed it to Avrille. She quickly pocketed it as I unlocked the storeroom door with my own key and opened it so she could see inside. "Whenever you remove anything from here, I ask that you make note of it in that ledger. You are, of course, welcome to use any ingredients for your own personal research should you wish to do so, as long as you document it." I closed the door and locked it again.

"If you leave this classroom and continue down the passage, the smaller dungeon is the first door on your left. I hold the N.E.W.T. level classes there, which tend to be fairly small since I do not allow anyone except those with an "Outstanding" O.W.L. to continue Potions with me. That is really about it to see. Working down here is perhaps not as visually stimulating as the hothouses, but it suffices."

Avrille walked around a little, seeming to get a feel for the place. "I find it very interesting that you allow even the younger students to use a self-selection technique with their ingredients. Have you ever read _Moulding the Independent Student_ by Jacques Rose-Cochon? He writes extensively on the topic for a few chapters."

"No." _Well, that was rude. Do you _want _her to hate you? _I cleared my throat. "I have not. It's simply the way that the professor who taught me arranged the classroom."

"Oh, well anyway, I think it's wonderful how much open work space there is down here. I trust with the high ceilings that fumes are not normally a problem?" Avrille asked.

"No, although you should be prepared for at least one explosion or other catastrophe a term nevertheless. The students do not need the excuse of befuddled minds to severely botch assignments. I refuse to clean up after their mistakes, so I will never ask you to. The students can handle that themselves, or Mr Filch, the caretaker, can be summoned. Now, unless you would like to look around more we can return to my office, and I can give you your paperwork."

Avrille stated she had seen enough, so I doused the torches, and we walked back down the corridor. Once we were settled in my office once more, I handed Avrille her schedule for the upcoming month as well as a complete syllabus.

"This," I said as I handed her the syllabus, "contains what each class with be doing during each lesson for the entire school year. I have never gone off schedule, but I suppose an emergency could come up. In the case of that happening, I will draw up a new one for you to follow.

"Professor Sprout has asked for your time tomorrow, so your first observation with me will be the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff third years directly following lunch on Thursday. They will be attempting to brew a Shrinking Solution, so you will need to be sure there are enough daisy roots and shrivelfigs for the entire class-"

I was interrupted by a sharp rap on the door. I excused myself and upon opening it was surprised to see Lucius Malfoy standing in front of me. His face bore its usual smug expression, and like always, he was dressed immaculately in silk brocades and sable furs adorned with his heirloom platinum Slytherin broaches. He extended to me a black leather gloved hand.

"Severus, I trust I find you well," he said as I shook his hand.

"Quite well, thank you," I replied, noticing that Avrille had leaned back in her chair to see who had called. Lucius' eyes flickered away from me for a moment, and when he saw her, a distinct smile of amusement crept over his lips.

"Forgive me if I am intruding, but I wondered if I could have a word. I've just put Draco on the train and need to discuss some business with you before he arrives." Lucius was using his silkiest voice which only meant one thing: he wanted something.

"You're not intruding at all. I was just acquainting Mistress Asphodel with Hogwarts' dungeons. She is fulfilling her Potions and Herbology apprenticeships here this year." I motioned for Avrille to approach.

"Mistress Avrille Asphodel," I said as she extended her hand to Lucius, "Mr Lucius Malfoy." Instead of shaking it, as I'm sure she expected, Lucius took her hand and kissed it, all the while keeping her fixed with his icy grey eyes. I cleared my throat when Lucius allowed his hand to linger on hers. "Mr Malfoy is one of the school's twelve governors, as well as father to one of my students in Slytherin House, Draco."

Lucius straightened up and adjusted his sweeping cloak which had shifted slightly. "Delighted, Mistress Asphodel, and might I say that Hogwarts is fortunate indeed to have such a lovely new addition to its staff." I saw out of the corner of my eye that Avrille was blushing, but smiling politely none the less. I tried very hard not to roll my eyes. Anyone who knew Lucius personally was quite aware of the fact that he spent much more time seducing young women than at home with his wife and son.

"Well, if you would please excuse me, Mistress Asphodel, while I speak with Mr Malfoy. I can address any concerns you have later."

"Thank you for your time, Professor Snape. Mr Malfoy, it was nice meeting you," Avrille said with a smile and walked breezily out of the room. Lucius' eyes trailed after her until she was out of view on the staircase, and I noticed too late that mine did as well. Lucius' gaze flickered to me in what seemed a challenging manner. Perhaps I had imagined it, for the next instant it was gone. I stepped back to allow him to enter my office.

"Well well, Severus," Lucius murmured as he removed his gloves and took the seat in front of my desk which Avrille had just vacated. "Finally able to mix work with pleasure, I see?"

"I'm sure I do not know what you're talking about," I replied brusquely and walked to my desk, glad that my back was turned so Lucius could not see how my face burned with his words.

"Do you not?" Lucius raised his pale eyebrows. "No, I suppose you wouldn't; always too busy with what's directly in front of you, never able to see beyond the end of your wand. Really, I'm amazed you haven't found a nice girl yet and settled down. It really isn't _hard _you know, especially for one in such a position of prestige as yourself…" I took my seat and stared unblinkingly at Lucius, daring him to continue this vein of conversation. Lucius seemed to have noticed for he continued on, "…But never mind that. I've come here with a proposition for you."

"I'm listening." Inside I was smouldering. Lucius was just the sort of man whom I normally detested. However, our past ties as Death Eaters seemed to have linked us irrevocably together, and now that he had a child in the school, I knew I couldn't shake him off so easily.

Lucius hesitated and smiled faintly, revealing a line of perfectly white, magically-capped teeth. He shifted in his chair, crossing his legs and resting his cane across them. Looking behind him to make sure I had closed the door, he finally said, "I was curious as to if you had considered anyone to replace the Higgs boy as Slytherin's Quidditch Seeker, owing to the fact that he graduated last year."

I folded my arms across my chest and glanced up at the Quidditch Cup resting on a top shelf near the door. Indeed I had given it serious thought, seeing as how now the Slytherin team would need a decent Seeker to compete with James Potter's vile spawn who had managed to worm his way onto the Gryffindor team a year early last season. I had been most displeased when Gryffindor had beaten Slytherin last year, even though in the end we won the Cup since Potter spent the Quidditch final in the hospital wing. Since Minerva had recently resumed making blatant comments about finally taking the winning streak from Slytherin, I was all the more eager to retain it.

"Not really," I lied, knowing full well what Lucius wanted from me. Draco was entering his second year and would be eligible to try out for the team.

Lucius gave me an indulgent smile and twirled his cane back and forth in his fingers. "Well, allow me to make a suggestion, if I may. Draco is an excellent flier and very eager to prove himself, especially against that half-blood Potter boy. Wants to set a good example for the school and show that pure-bloods will always succeed over those less deserving to be students at Hogwarts." He lounged back in the chair and eyed me thoughtfully.

"Yes, I agree that Draco is a very promising student and a loyal member of Slytherin House. However, I would have to insist that I at least see Draco fly with the other members of the team before appointing him Seeker."

This seemed to faze Lucius very little. "Of course, Severus, of course. Naturally you want to be sure you have the best flier for the position. However, let me add that once you see the other students try out, I would be most pleased to sponsor the Slytherin team should you find Draco the most suitable Seeker. It's the least I could do for such a dear old friend such as yourself." Another indulgent smile played across his lips.

"Sponsor? What exactly would that role encompass?" I asked cautiously. As far as I was concerned, Lucius already had far too great an influence on Hogwarts business.

Lucius' eyes dropped modestly to his coin purse that seemed to be close to bursting and rather uncomfortably squeezed between his leg and the armrest. "Well, let us say that since I was already planning on buying Draco a new racing broom for a start of term gift, I would be only too pleased to outfit the entire team with brooms from the new Nimbus Two Thousand and One line should he make the House team this year." Lucius grinned triumphantly at my startled expression.

I could not deny that having the entire Slytherin team flying Nimbus Two Thousand and Ones would give us an insurmountable advantage over the other three House teams. Most of the other players flew old Shooting Stars or Cleansweeps, virtual antiques. Potter had the best broom currently of any Quidditch player in the school, and his was the already redundant Nimbus Two Thousand model. Unable to resist such an exceptional offer, I forced myself to return Lucius' smile with one of my own.

"I will, of course, need to confer with our captain, Marcus Flint, on the subject, but I cannot find a problem with appointing Draco Seeker if he is as accomplished a flier as you say he is."

"He is indeed, and, as you know, I _never_ lie, Severus." Lucius' cold eyes gleamed dangerously in the firelight. Of course Lucius would never lie, unless one counted all the political deals and renunciations he had to make to avoid Azkaban after the fall of the Dark Lord.

"Of course. I meant no slight to your honour," I replied, bowing my head deferentially. "Once the Seeker try-outs have concluded, I shall send you an owl immediately with my final decision." I rose to signal that I had no more to say on the matter.

"Thank you for your time, Severus. I know you shall not disappoint." Lucius gave me a curt bow then swept from the room.

When the door had closed once more, I dropped down into my desk chair and allowed myself to seethe furiously. I just couldn't stand the fact that Lucius Malfoy, even if only facetiously, had put words to the feelings I seemed to be developing for Avrille, a partiality that up until this point I had been trying to convince myself was temporary.

I was beginning to realise that the interest I had in Avrille could, if unchecked, very well develop into an infatuation. At first I hoped it was a simple physical attraction; it could not be denied that she was one of the most stunning women ever to grace the halls of Hogwarts. I had expected that spending time with her today would have quelled whatever sentiments I had for her. I had tried to convince myself, for instance, that perhaps she would turn out to be an insufferable nuisance whose annoyances would soon drive away any attachment I had to her beautiful appearance. Of course, that was probably one of the more unfounded things I had ever hoped for. A young lady did not become a Valedictorian of the Boston Witches' Academy, the most prestigious graduate school for witches in the entire North American continent, by being a dunderhead. In fact, I had discovered, with a great increase to my discomfort, not to mention defying all sense of logic, that being alone with Avrille for a single half-hour induced me to be more enamoured of her than ever before. Yet deep down, a hollow cold descended on me since I knew that, even if by some miracle she ever began to care for me, a relationship would be impossible.

My father had done his best to prevent that.


	5. Chapter Five: AVRILLE

CHAPTER FIVE

_Avrille_

I entered the Great Hall at six sharp just as the first wave of students trickled through the main doors. The hall itself looked spectacular. Each of the student House tables were set with plates and goblets of gold, and the ceiling above mirrored the night sky with a deep shade of spangled indigo. The students were talking loudly as they entered and took their seats with their fellow House members. Some were staring very blatantly up at the staff table and pointing while whispering behind their hands. Although it seemed like they were gossiping about me, I realized it was more likely that Lockhart, who had entered right behind me, was the subject of their interest. I couldn't blame them. By now I was rather used to Lockhart's ridiculous wardrobe, but for the incoming students, the sight of a male staff member in aquamarine robes was bound to cause a stir.

Professor Snape was already seated when I entered and only acknowledged my appearance with a sideways glance. I found his position at the table curious, in the seat he had occupied during my first breakfast here, because since that time he always sat at Professor Dumbledore's left hand at supper. At the moment his posture alone radiated extreme irritation, so I decided not to inquire into the matter. In one hand Professor Snape clutched the night's edition of the_ Evening Prophet,_ while his other hand drummed at the table impatiently. His jaw was set hard, and his eyes scanned the incoming students as though trying to seek out someone in particular.

I sat back in my chair with a sigh and observed the students since my table neighbours did not seem primed for conversation. Lockhart was for once too occupied to harass me and kept smoothing down his hair while winking at several of the older student girls. Utterly disgusted, I turned my gaze to the other half of the hall and watched the Slytherin table. A mass of students had clumped themselves around one boy, a second or third year by the look of him, with white-blonde hair who was telling some sort of story that drew sighs of delight from the surrounding girls. Looking over the Gryffindor table, I tried to pick out the famous Harry Potter. Just then, Professor Dumbledore entered the hall and swept into his chair at the center of the staff table. The students who were still talking with their friends ceased their chatter and hurried to take their seats as well.

Once all were settled at their House tables, Professor Dumbledore rose, silencing the room. As he was raising his hands in greeting, there came a resounding crash from somewhere outside. Many of the students jumped at the noise and began whispering among themselves once more. Professor Dumbledore glanced sideways at Professor Snape, who returned his look with a slight nod and strode from the room out the teachers' entrance. As bewildered as the students by the noise, I looked to Professor Dumbledore, who had simply raised his hands once more and cleared his throat loudly. The room quieted.

"Good evening!" Professor Dumbledore called out in a clear voice. "Welcome back to another year at Hogwarts! In a few minutes we shall be partaking in our start of term feast, but as you know, we have an important piece of business to accomplish first. Please put your grumbling bellies aside for a moment, and join me in welcoming our new first years!"

Right on cue, the great oaken doors at the end of the hall creaked open to reveal Professor McGonagall leading a small line of terrified looking first year students. As they filed into the hall, some waved nervously at older siblings, but most gazed around in an amazed, anxious sort of way. Looking down from my position at the staff table, I couldn't believe how _little _the first years looked and seemed unable to grasp that I could have ever been that age once too. Then again, of course, I _hadn't _been that age when _I _entered school.

Professor McGonagall stopped the procession in front of the staff table and placed the old, patched hat she had been carrying on a stool directly in front of Professor Dumbledore. Although I had never seen it, I assumed from reading the first few chapters of _Hogwarts, A History _that it must be the famous Hogwarts' Sorting Hat which placed incoming students into their respective Houses. I was greatly looking forward to seeing the Sorting Ceremony since we didn't have Houses in American magic schools. I thought it was an interesting concept, but I also wondered if the competitive nature that Houses would inevitably produce was beneficial to learning.

As I was pondering these thoughts, the Sorting Hat greatly surprised me by bursting into song. Several of the first year students had jumped at the hat's booming voice but then relaxed and giggled as they listened to the hat's rhyme of the four founders of Hogwarts. When the hat had finished its song and the ensuing clapping died down, Professor McGonagall unrolled a parchment and called out, "When I read your name, please come forward and place the Sorting Hat on your head.

Cobble, Nan!"

A tiny little girl with porcelain skin and almost perfectly round brown eyes crept forward and sat on the stool. She hesitantly placed the hat on top of her bushy curls and was instantaneously declared, "HUFFLEPUFF!" With a great sigh of relief, little Nan returned the hat to the stool and virtually ran to her new House table.

"Creevy, Colin!"

At the sound of his name, a small, a mousy-haired boy stumbled forward excitedly and tried to place the Sorting Hat neatly on his head. However, the hat was so big it fell well past the boy's eyes, hiding his face from the crowd. After a moment the hat called out triumphantly, "GRYFFINDOR!" and little Colin skipped happily over to the Gryffindor table where his new Housemates were applauding him uproariously.

I hate to admit it, but as the Sorting continued, I found my mind wandering to where Professor Snape had gone and the cause of that large crash. Professor Dumbledore had obviously thought it important enough to send a teacher out to investigate, and as for Professor Snape, well, he almost seemed to have been expecting it. It didn't seem a coincidence that his unusual place at the table provided a quick exit from the hall.

My thoughts were jerked back to the Sorting with another crash, though much smaller, as Lovegood, Luna tripped over the stool in her haste to pick up the Sorting Hat. After she was declared "RAVENCLAW!" I zoned out once more, anxious for the feast to begin since I had foolishly skipped lunch to read through all of the paperwork Professor Snape had given me.

Finally only one student remained, a tiny freckled girl with flaming red hair that seemed reluctant to remain contained beneath her black pointed hat. As Professor McGonagall called out, "Weasley, Ginevra!" the redhead crept over to the stool while gazing longingly at the Gryffindor table. Three ginger Gryffindor boys, two of them identical twins, waved vigorously at her while she placed the Sorting Hat over her flyaway hair. Immediately, the Sorting Hat proclaimed, "GRYFFINDOR!" and the Sorting was over. As Miss Weasley bounded over to meet, I presumed, her brothers, I heard the door open behind me and turned to see Professor Snape re-entering the hall looking rather pleased about something. He walked over to Professor McGonagall, who was moving the stool and hat to the side, and muttered a few words in her ear. Professor McGonagall nodded curtly and followed him out through the staff door once more. Professor Dumbledore watched them go then stood again.

"Since I assume everyone is as hungry as I am, I will not delay the feast with announcements just yet-" the students cheered at this, "-But I do have _one _word for you: Enjoy!"

With that, the House and staff tables suddenly overflowed with food. The hungry students immediately dug in, and none seemed to notice as Professor Dumbledore slipped discreetly through the staff door to follow Professor Snape and Professor McGonagall. By now I was absolutely dying of curiosity. Something quite incredible must have happened to summon the heads of _two _Houses as well as the headmaster away from the festivities. I looked along down the staff table, but no one else seemed to be very concerned. Only Mr. Hagrid met my eye and returned my confused look with a shrugging of his massive shoulders before ripping the drumsticks off of a turkey.

As I reached for a warm roll, Lockhart suddenly remarked, "By Jove, I don't know what all this commotion is about, but I have a sneaking suspicion it has something to do with young Mr. Potter!"

"Why would you think that?" I asked, curious despite my desire to avoid any conversation with Lockhart if humanly possible.

"Well, I don't see him at his House table, and, from what Severus has told me, it seems Harry likes to draw attention to himself. Met the little tyke myself during my _Magical Me_ book signing; practically begged to have his picture taken with me for the _Daily Prophet._ He seems to have caught the celebrity bug, I'm afraid. But who can blame little Harry, God bless him? He told me himself that he was my number one fan! Says he wants to be just like me when he grows up!" Lockhart's face was plastered with a gloating grin.

"Wow, imagine that," I said blandly. Perhaps sensing that he did not have my full attention, Lockhart turned to poor Professor Flitwick and began recalling the time he had saved a village of Dwarves in Finland from a brood of hungry mountain trolls and inquired if he had any relations in the area. Glad to have been set free from the obligation of forced politeness, I devoured my dinner of turkey and mashed potatoes.

Once everyone was done with dinner, the dirty plates and platters vanished, and a vast assortment of sweets appeared with milk for the students and coffee and a selection of dessert wines for the staff. As the students were diving for cookies and cakes, Professor Dumbledore and Professor Snape re-entered the Great Hall, both looking quite sombre. Well, to be more accurate, Professor Dumbledore looked sombre while Professor Snape looked as though he wanted to strangle someone. He sat down with his arms crossed and glared at the dessert. He didn't seem appreciate missing dinner. However, Professor Dumbledore seemed to relax instantly and joined Madam Pomfrey in a toast after serving himself some of the custard tart.

"Is… everything alright?" I asked Professor Snape tentatively. He did not seem to be in the mood to talk, but Lockhart's Potter theory had piqued my interest.

"Nothing out of the ordinary," Professor Snape replied bitterly. "Just Mr. Potter receiving his usual special treatment from the headmaster."

So it _did _have to do with Harry Potter after all. "What did he do?" I asked.

"He flew a car into the Whomping Willow."

A burst of laughter escaped me by accident. Professor Snape glared at me.

"But… Oh, I thought you were joking," I said apologetically.

"Unfortunately not," he replied.

"I'm so sorry for laughing-" I began, but Professor Snape cut me off.

"Please don't trouble yourself, Mistress Asphodel. You are new here, but I'm sure you will soon see for yourself that there are two sets of rules at Hogwarts: those for Harry Potter and those for everyone else." With that, Professor Snape rose and stormed out of the room once more. After he had slammed the door behind him, I sat back in my chair feeling horrible. Without even knowing him, I was already disliking this Harry Potter, not only for being an avid Lockhart worshiper but also for pissing off Professor Snape just when I was starting to think we were getting on well together.

As dessert was winding to a close, Professor McGonagall came back to the table after presumably dealing with her student. As soon as she was settled, Professor Dumbledore stood and called out in a clear voice, "If you will forgive me, I have a few start of term announcements to give before I lose you all to your dormitories.

"Firstly, the first years are to note that the Dark Forest is always forbidden to _all _students. Also, as usual, our caretaker, Mr. Filch, has asked me to remind you that magic is forbidden in the corridors and also that an extensive list of banned items can be viewed in his office. Lastly, it is my privilege to introduce two new members to our Hogwarts staff.

"Professor Gilderoy Lockhart-" Professor Dumbledore pointed an upturned palm to Lockhart who rose and gave a flourished bow and mile-wide smile, "-who will be filling our empty Defence Against the Dark Arts teaching position." With these words, a sea of whispers flooded the room. I had heard the previous Defence Against the Dark Arts professor had met with some sort of fatal accident last year, and that the position was said to be cursed.

Professor Dumbledore paused pointedly until the room was silent. "Also, Mistress Avrille Asphodel who is a graduate student from the Boston Witches' Academy and apprenticing under Professors Snape and Sprout this school year. You will undoubtedly encounter her observing several of your classes, and I expect she will receive the same respect that would be shown to any Hogwarts teacher."

I stood as Lockhart had done and gave a small wave. I sat down quickly for it was very unnerving to suddenly be the sole focus of hundreds of appraising eyes. Someone near the back of the hall gave an approving whistle which caused almost all of the students to dissolve into giggles. Professor Dumbledore needed only to furrow his eyebrows for the hall to be as silent as a steel trap once more.

"Thank you. I wish you all a good, sound sleep to prepare you for the rigorous lessons your professors have spent all summer devising for you. Let us all do our best to make this school year a great one!"

With a resounding cheer, the students leapt from their seats and swarmed out into the entrance hall. It was utterly amazing how quickly the hall emptied. Deciding to heed Professor Dumbledore's wishes for a nice long sleep, I left the hall through the staff door.

I heard, "Mistress Asphodel!" just as I was about to climb the back staircase that would bring me quickly to my rooms. I turned to see Professor Sinistra, whom I had not seen since my first breakfast at Hogwarts, rushing up behind me.

"I wanted to talk to you before now, but I couldn't track you down!" She held out her hand to me which I shook. "I'm Lavinia. I know we were introduced by Professor Dumbledore, but I wanted to do it again all the same."

"Thanks!" I replied appreciatively. "Call me Avrille."

A bright smile lit up Lavinia's face. "I've only been teaching here a few years myself, so I fully remember how frightening it can be starting as an apprentice. There were no staff members my own age when I apprenticed, so I had no one to connect with. I just wanted to let you know that if you're ever bored or homesick or anything, I'll be around if you need to talk."

"That's so nice of you! I really appreciate it. I admit I have been feeling a little lonely since I'm used to being surrounded by girls at school."

Lavinia pulled a small silver watch out of her pocket and checked the time. "I would love to talk some more, but I really need to go and finish up my class plans. I always put it off until the last minute. Maybe we can meet up at breakfast tomorrow? I would love to hear how you like the school so far."

"Sure thing. I'll be looking forward to it."

With one more smile, Lavinia turned and headed back down the corridor. I watched her go, my hand still resting on the marble railing of the staircase. I knew I should get to bed as well, but I was still a little upset over how I had annoyed Professor Snape at dinner. I really wanted so much for him to like me. If only there was something I could do for him…

A sudden thought occurred to me. Checking that I still had the ingredient storeroom key in my pocket, I turned away from the stairs leading up to my room and headed back in the direction of the dungeons.


	6. Chapter Six: SEVERUS

CHAPTER SIX

_Severus_

Since having to deal with the antics of Mr Weasley and Mr Potter made me miss my dinner, I returned to my rooms so at least I could have something to eat in peace. I used the voice tube in my parlour to call down to the kitchens and request a meal. The kitchen-elves were, of course, happy to oblige and sent a plate of the turkey dinner straight down. I sat and ate in my preferred solitude, staring through a window at the black depths of the lake as it gently swirled against the glass.

The main benefit of being housed in the dungeons was that I had the largest private rooms of anyone in the castle. My sitting room and bedchamber were both cavernous with cathedral ceilings and windows that stretched from the floor to well over a dozen feet high. Since I was in the cellar of the castle and therefore submerged, each window was a portal to the great lake. During sunny winter days when the water was cold and clear, one could often see the giant squid clinging to the underwater cliffs. A permanent Warming Charm kept the rooms from being draughty and damp like the dungeon classrooms. Over the years I had managed to outfit my quarters with everything I needed to live a comfortable existence at Hogwarts year-round. It was not common practise for professors to be permanently lodged at the castle, but since Dumbledore knew of my unwillingness to spend a large amount of time at my family home, he generously obliged me.

After Vanishing my empty plate, I walked over to the sofa near the fireplace and lay down with my arms crossed over my eyes. It felt wonderful to relax for a little while. It had proved to be an unusually busy first day of school, and I was still immensely aggravated that Potter and Weasley had managed to scrape by with just a detention each. Unless Dumbledore took a firm hand with those two soon, they would end up as asinine and useless as Potter's father and Weasley's elder twin brothers. What did it really matter that Potter had an unfortunate childhood? So did countless others who did not receive special attention from the headmaster. A troubled past was even more of a reason to impart stern guidelines now while the child was in school rather than have him learn later that being weak will not garner sympathy and special treatment from others in the real world.

I opened my eyes to stare up at the distant ceiling, definitively pushing thoughts of those two troublemakers from mind. They were not worth my concern or my time. Watching the shadows cast by the fire dart over the stone walls, Avrille slid gracefully into my thoughts instead, the way she had earlier in the day into my office.

Any one of my acquaintances could vouch that I kept my life orderly and concise. I liked schedules, grades, formulas, things that held very little margin for error. For God's sake, I even kept my potions ingredients alphabetized. I could reason with the idea of being attracted to a woman. After all, attraction to the opposite sex was something ingrained in our very genetic code to guarantee the continuation of the species. But to fall in love? Love was a different matter entirely. Love could be as corrosive as acid, as volatile as nitro-glycerine, more intoxicating as opium and more deadly than the venom of the Inland Taipan. Only fools allowed themselves to become swept up in something so obviously dangerous. And I must have been a fool for even considering such an emotion in connection with a woman I had only met a week ago. It defied logic, therefore it must not be true.

So why was it that instead of effectively hardening my heart whenever I saw Avrille in the hallways, I instead allowed myself to indulge in the fantasy of her suddenly turning my way and running into my arms?

Shaking my head to clear it, I stood once more, shrugged on my school-robe and decided the only way I could bury such dangerous thoughts was to throw myself wholeheartedly into work. I quickly made my way through winding corridors and down twisting stairs until I found myself at the blank stretch of wall that led to the Slytherin common room.

The moment I entered, most of the students fell silent immediately, with the exception of a couple of new first years who continued to talk excitedly to each other for a few moments until noticing the sudden hush. They quickly silenced themselves as well and looked around to see what was the matter. I gave a dismissive wave of my hand, and the older students began talking amongst themselves once more. The first years continued to glance around themselves, utterly bewildered. I knew I should have introduced myself to them, being the head of their House and absent for the majority of the welcoming feast, but I currently had business on my mind.

"Mr Malfoy," I called, taking a few steps into the common room. Draco was sitting by the fire with his two chief retainers, Gregory Goyle and Vincent Crabbe. Draco smirked at them before jumping up and hurrying over to me.

"Yes, sir?" he asked.

I studied him for a moment. He appeared to have grown taller over the summer but retained his light frame. His long arms, for the moment, seemed slightly awkward and gangly, but they would add precious inches if the Snitch were in reach…

No. I was going to do this fairly so that Minerva would have no justification in complaining to the headmaster _if_ the next time she saw the Slytherin Quidditch team it was on seven Nimbus Two Thousand and Ones.

"Go fetch Flint," I told Draco.

Draco's eyes gleamed greedily in the firelight for the briefest moment before he turned and called, "Yes, sir!" over his shoulder as he ran down the stairs leading to the upperclassmen dormitories. I barely had time to take a visual survey of the common room before Draco was running back with Marcus Flint, my Quidditch captain, at his heels.

"You wished to see me, sir?" Flint asked. He and Draco shared a blatantly obvious look of triumph before fixing their attention back on me. However, I needn't have seen that look to discover that Draco had already been bragging about his father's generous offer to the Slytherin team. I didn't even need to actively employ Legilimency to see the thoughts of brand-new broomsticks flashing through their minds.

"Thank you, Mr Malfoy." I looked at Draco pointedly to let him know he was no longer needed. Draco barely concealed a scowl before slinking off back to the fire. I turned my attention solidly to Flint.

I said quietly, "Quidditch Seeker try-outs will be held Thursday an hour after classes have ended. Make sure _all_ likely candidates attend. I want the best flier for the position, and I want a complete team ready to practise over the weekend."

"Yes, sir!" Flint straightened his usually skulking posture as though I were a lieutenant issuing a command. With another dismissive wave, I motioned for Flint to return to his dormitory. He raised his eyebrows slightly at Draco as he passed the hearth but retreated down the stairs once more. Draco looked to me, but I refused to show him any sign of intention. With one last sweeping look around the common room, I turned and exited.

I knew that the moment I left, Draco had probably run down after Flint to find out what I had said. Hopefully I had made it fairly clear to Flint he should make Draco no promises. In fact, what neither of them knew was that I had already approached Madam Hooch to request her presence at the try-outs on Thursday. I wanted someone above reproach there to be a witness if Draco did turn out to be the best flier for the team. No matter how much I wanted those new Nimbus Two Thousand and Ones for the team, I was not willing to sacrifice my integrity for them. That, at least, I still had left to me.


	7. Chapter Seven: AVRILLE

CHAPTER SEVEN

_Avrille_

I woke up extra early the morning of the first day of classes, although I really hadn't needed to since I would be spending the whole morning assisting Professor Sprout in the hothouses. There was no reason to spend extra time looking nice when I would soon most likely be elbow-deep in fertilizer. However, I didn't want to look like a total slob, either. I _would _be at breakfast with the rest of the staff, and Professor Snape was most likely going to be there… Eventually I pulled together an outfit that was simple yet sophisticated and wouldn't be ruined if I ended up squirted with bubotuber pus. I pulled my hair up into a loose bun so my neck wouldn't get sticky in the muggy hothouses.

My first observation of the year was to take place at nine o'clock in hothouse three where Professor Sprout would be showing the second year Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs how to repot the mandrake seedlings she had managed, through much haggling and wheedling with the Ministry, to procure. I could barely believe it when Professor Sprout had shown me the mandrakes during my tour of the hothouses a few days prior. The British Ministry classified mandrakes as a class three hazardous substance, so it was quite amazing that she had been allowed to take them onto the school grounds at all. I myself had only worked with mandrakes once before in my life, and that had been during graduate school where we were all already quite accomplished herbologists. I couldn't imagine being exposed to such a plant when _I_ was twelve years old. But Professor Sprout was quite right when she explained how the mandrakes could be used as a vital learning tool.

"Because they take almost nine months to fully mature," she had said, "we can use the mandrakes in class for almost every year." That was why now when the mandrakes were only seedlings and not yet lethal, the second years would be tending them. Then later when they were fully mature and highly dangerous, they could be cared for by the seventh year N.E.W.T. students. Needless to say, even though the mandrakes were only babies, I was quite eager to get over to the hothouses and start my observation. However, things ended up not working out the way I had planned.

I was just walking down the ground floor corridor to the Great Hall, feeling a little nervous in case Professor Snape was there and still in a bad mood, when I saw Professor Sprout bustling down the hallway toward me. She was already dressed for the outdoors with her patched witch's hat pulled down tightly since it looked like rain, and she was carrying a large, bulging satchel in her arms. She reached me before I had a chance to enter the Great Hall.

"I am terribly sorry, my dear, but I was wondering if you could assist me." Professor Sprout was out of breath, most likely from lugging the heavy-looking satchel around the hallways looking for me. "I was just out appraising the Whomping Willow, and I am afraid the damage is much more severe by the light of day than I had previously realized."

"No problem! I would be glad to help," I said as I reached out and took the satchel from Professor Sprout before she could protest. It was quite heavy, and I had to lean slightly to the side to counterbalance the weight after I slung it over my shoulder. I tried not to let it show, but I was slightly disappointed to miss my breakfast chat with Lavinia.

"I hope it won't take too long," Professor Sprout said as we turned and starting walking back to the entrance hall. "It _is_ such a valuable tree, and it's best to tend it now before any dampness can settle in and cause rot. As I'm sure you know, Whomping Willows are actually quite fragile-"

"Did I hear that you are going to tend to the Whomping Willow, Professor Sprout?"

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Gilderoy Lockhart had appeared seemingly out of nowhere and now stood between us and the door outside.

"Please allow me to lend a hand," Lockhart continued, his own hands clasped behind his back while he rocked back and forth on his heels. "I would be glad to offer what little expertise I have on the subject. Shall we go?" Without waiting for an actual invitation or offering to help me with the heavy bag, Lockhart strode pompously out the front door ahead of us.

Professor Sprout shook her head and clucked her tongue in annoyance, almost making me laugh. It was pretty sad that it was only the first day of classes and already the other professors hated him. Nevertheless, Professor Sprout hitched up her skirt and hurried out the door after him while muttering, "Didn't even manage to scrape a Herbology O.W.L.… expertise indeed..." I slowly brought up the rear lugging the satchel and fuming over the fact that not only was I going to miss breakfast but I was going to have to listen to Lockhart now for an indefinite amount of time.

We crossed the grounds to where the Whomping Willow stood swaying gently in the morning breeze. The tree did look as though it had seen better days at the school. Dozens of smaller branches littered the surrounding grass, while several of the tree's larger limbs were splintered or hanging haphazardly at unnatural angles. Lockhart had stopped a few yards away from the tree and was looking expectantly at Professor Sprout, who once again shook her head before casting a Freezing Charm on the ominously swaying branches.

"Come here a moment, dear," Professor Sprout called to me. I dropped the satchel and hurried over to the trunk of the tree where she was standing. Professor Sprout pointed to a knobby patch of bark on the tree's trunk with a gloved finger.

"See this knot?" she asked, acting as if Lockhart wasn't even there. He craned his neck nosily to try and see what we were doing. Professor Sprout lowered her voice. "If you ever need to approach the tree, you can press here with a stick or some other long instrument to completely immobilize the tree for several minutes." I nodded in understanding as Professor Sprout fixed me with a meaningful, though kind, look. She, of course, knew by now of my difficulty with magic spells.

"Now, let's get started," Professor Sprout said in her normal voice and walked back to where I had put down the bag. She opened it to reveal numerous rolls of bandages and slings along with jars of _Miracle Re-grow_ plant salve. "Why don't you start gathering up those loose branches, Avrille," she said gesturing toward the base of the trunk. "We might be able to sell the larger ones to Mr. Ollivander in Diagon Alley, and I'm sure that Professor Snape can find some use for the twigs."

"Ah yes," spoke up Lockhart out of nowhere, "I have often used the wood of the Whomping Willow tree during my travels. It burns smokeless, you see, making it the ideal fuel for a camp fire when one does not want to attract the attention of hunting harpies. Not that I couldn't deal with _them _of course…" Lockhart continued to prattle on about the various harpies he had defeated, and how he had personally plucked one featherless himself. I set about gathering up the loose sticks and tried my best to ignore him. Professor Sprout seemed to be doing the same as she concentrated on magically winding salve-smeared bandages around some of the higher damaged tree limbs.

It was very slow-going work. It seemed like Harry Potter's car had managed to do at least some damage to every single tree limb. Once I had finished gathering and bundling the loose sticks, I took up a roll of bandages myself and started doctoring the low-hanging branches that Professor Sprout had purposefully overlooked, knowing that I would be unable to levitate the slings as she was currently doing. Lockhart, unsurprisingly, did not lift a finger to help. He did once bend over to examine the _Miracle Re-grow_ ointment before backing quickly away while muttering something which sounded like, "That would stain awfully…" He then straightened his immaculate turquoise robes and matching hat before launching himself on another tirade, this one concerning how he had once wrestled down a Devil's Snare plant the size of a large hippopotamus.

Professor Sprout and I had been working for well over an hour when we heard the castle bell toll nine o'clock, signalling the start of the first class. Professor Sprout hurried over to me and quickly took in my work with an approving nod.

"That's _very_ good, my dear," she said. "Would you mind just finishing up here while I go to class? We can have you observe a different day; this really must take priority. The Freezing Charm will last for another hour, giving you plenty of time to finish. You can leave the supplies and the larger branches here; I will fetch them when I am finished with class. Would it be possible for you to bring the twigs to Professor Snape when you are done?"

"Sure!" I replied, finding myself strangely glad to have an excuse to go talk to Professor Snape. Professor Sprout smiled and patted me on the back. She quickly Conjured a small burlap bag for the twigs then hurried off in the direction of hothouse three, Lockhart at her heels and still describing every counter-move he had used against that vicious Devil's Snare.

Once more I was disappointed, now that I would be missing out on watching the repotting of the mandrakes, but it was something that I had done before whereas I had never had the chance to doctor a Whomping Willow. With Lockhart gone, my concentration was much better, and I managed to finish the remaining bandaging within a half-hour. I gathered all of the smaller twigs in the burlap bag Professor Sprout had left me and walked back up to the castle.

Since class was in session, the entrance hall was deserted. I paused before a large mirror to fix my hair and tried to rub some of the dirt off of my face with the sleeve of my robe. I headed straight down the stairs to the dungeons, thinking that Professor Snape might be in his office since I knew he did not have a class this first period. It seemed that after I took the first step down, the temperature dropped by several degrees. A phantom draught whistled through the corridor, and I pulled my robe tightly around myself wondering how Professor Snape could stand being down here all day long.

I could see a faint light flickering under the door to Professor Snape's office, so I ran a hand over my hair once more and knocked quietly.

I heard his voice call briskly, "Enter."

I opened the door to reveal Professor Snape leaning back in a chair at his desk reading an ancient-looking book. There was a cheery blaze burning in the fireplace which made the office much warmer and more pleasant than the outside corridor, even though the numerous jars of pickled potions ingredients gave it a slightly macabre appearance. I entered and closed the door behind me to keep in the heat. Professor Snape put down his book and looked up at me expectantly.

"Professor Sprout thought that you might like to have these," I said, approaching the desk and holding out the burlap bag. Professor Snape took it from me and looked inside. "They're from the Whomping Willow tree."

Professor Snape upended the bag, spilling a jumble of twigs, leaves, and clods of dirt across his otherwise pristinely organized desk. He picked up a twig at random and held it up to the light, rolling it between his fingers as if to appraise its quality.

"The tree _was_ badly damaged, then?"

I started slightly at his question since I had been strangely mesmerized by the way his thumb had been caressing the twig's smooth bark.

"Yes," I recovered quickly. "Professor Sprout and I were just out mending it, but I think it will be several months before the tree is back to perfect health."

Professor Snape sighed heavily and dropped the twig back onto the desktop, his lips pursed in annoyance. From what I garnered from his brief comments last night, it seemed he did not think Harry Potter had received enough punishment for the offence. For a while he just sat there, his chin resting on steepled fingers. A few locks of his black hair fell forward to brush the crisp white of his cuffs as he continued to study the small pile of twigs intently.

Then, in a brisk yet graceful motion, Professor Snape magically Vanished the dirt and swept the branches into the bag as he said curtly, "Thank you for bringing them." He picked up his book once more. Assuming I was not needed for anything else, I turned to leave.

"Mistress Asphodel." Professor Snape's voice called my attention back to the room just as I was about to close the door behind me.

"Yes?" I stuck my head back in. My heart was positively pounding, and I didn't know why. Professor Snape was gazing at me from over the top of his book, his dark eyes keen and studious as though seeing me for the first time.

"You stocked the student store cupboard for this morning." He said this as a statement, not a question, with no voice inflection by which I could ascertain a positive or negative tone. I re-entered the office slightly with my hand still resting on the door latch.

"Yes, I did. I thought perhaps with all the commotion last night you might not have had a chance to before your first class."

He continued to consider me over the top of the book for a moment before saying coolly, "I appreciate your concern, but I am fully capable of handling my own workload. Unless you are going to be observing that particular class, you needn't bother in the future." With that, his focus dropped once more to the pages of the book, and I understood myself to be dismissed. Although my first instinct was to stay put and explain that I did not think him incapable of preparing for his own class, and I had just been trying to help, I nodded silently and left the office. Once the door was closed, I sagged against the wall and rested a hot cheek against the cold stone.

I did not know what I had done to offend him, but it seemed as though, for the moment, Professor Snape was not very impressed with me. Perhaps he was still miffed over that incident at St. Mungo's… or maybe he resented the fact that he had an apprentice who was practically a Squib. I pulled my robes tightly together once more and rested my lips on my knuckles. I had been criticized and downright reprimanded by teachers before. Why did that one little comment of his hurt so much?

With an angry huff, I pushed off from the wall and strode back upstairs. Well, I would just have to show him that I was totally up to the task, wouldn't I? I didn't know how I was going to do it yet, but I was determined to impress the hell out of him before the week was through. Somehow I was going to make myself the best damn apprentice he ever had.


	8. Chapter Eight: SEVERUS

CHAPTER EIGHT

_Severus_

The day of Avrille's first Potions observation was one of the most nerve-wracking in my recent memory. Not even the nervousness I had felt before presenting my Black Arts Thesis to the Optime Magestri of the Academia Veneficiorum came close to the feeling I awoke with that Thursday morning. The anxiety I felt concerning Avrille's first observation with me had permeated my dreams to a point where I was woken an hour earlier than normal by a wrenching stomach ache. After downing a tonic for my stomach that I Summoned from the medicine cabinet, I lay in bed awash with conflicting emotions, the forefront occupied by extreme annoyance.

I was annoyed at my normally steady mind for betraying me during the night and leading my body to follow it in its churning whirlpool of discontent. I was annoyed that now, with very little restful sleep, I would be faced with supervising a long Quidditch try-out that would most likely determine whether or not Slytherin had a crushing advantage over Gryffindor, following an already full day of classes. In one of those classes would be Avrille, leaving me annoyingly trapped in close quarter with she whom I had been doing my damnedest to avoid. This thought made me realise how incredibly annoyed I was that Avrille was turning out to be so damned _perfect_. However, _that_ annoyance was truly rooted in sheer panic; her perfection was causing my regard for her to grow exponentially each day, leaving me, frankly, terrified. After all, it had only taken one meeting of her fiery brown eyes with mine for all of my carefully constructed emotional walls to come crashing down around me in the halls of St. Mungo's.

I had worked so hard over the past ten years to fortify myself against this sort of thing. I figured in my present location I was rather safe since the only female staff member even remotely close to me in age was Lavinia Sinistra, who never ceased to remind me why I couldn't stand being around her every time she opened her mouth. I filled every waking minute with work and research, effectively convincing myself that one did not need a partner in life to be happy. And I _was _happy, more or less. Every time I received one of my completed books in the post from my publisher I filled myself up with the satisfying feeling of accomplishment, reinforcing my strong belief that I was living a full, successful life. But now that I had met Avrille, I felt as though I could never be happy again unless she was mine which, of course, she never would be.

I rolled over in bed and stared off into the comforting darkness, wondering if I would perhaps be able to fall back asleep for a few more minutes. Unfortunately, now that I was awake, my mind would not settle on anything but Avrille. I felt rather guilty over my words the day before, but her thoughtfulness had disarmed me, making me adamant in wanting to prevent another such occurrence in the future. The only way I could think of to regain my former self-control would be to find some flaw of hers that I could exploit. If there was _something_ about her that I hated, I could wrap myself around it and perhaps bring her down from the pillar in my mind she was occupying to her lowly place as an apprentice whose presence was severely interfering with my quest for the illusive invisibility potion. I sighed; I knew that was impossible. I already knew how this was all going to play out: I would spend the entire school year in agonizing amorous torment, and then when summer came and Avrille left, I would be left behind to pick up the shattered pieces of my life, knowing that until the day I died I would never be content again.

All right, I know I was being melodramatic, but that was the sort of mood I was partial to when exhausted. I eventually forced myself out of bed and ate breakfast alone in my sitting room. I mentioned before that I had been doing my best to avoid Avrille. Since that first breakfast when Avrille was "introduced" to me, I had continued with my practice taking breakfast here in my room to reduce the chance of having to talk to her. I would have skipped every meal in the Great Hall if possible, but I suspected that such an action would attract the notice of Dumbledore. With the aim of avoiding any awkward questions, I did force myself to eat at least one meal in the Great Hall a day, though I tended to arrive a few minutes late so that I would be able to find a seat as far away from Avrille as possible. During the day, I tended to remain in my office or private rooms and avoid public areas such as the staffroom or library where I might potentially meet her. All in all I wasn't sure if the seclusion was helpful. I began to realise that without some conversation with the other professors, I had nothing to distract me from constant thoughts of my alluring apprentice. Nevertheless, I had no better ideas, so in my room I remained.

As it turned out, my avoidance tactics served me well that morning for I did not see Avrille until the actual observation following lunch. I entered the larger dungeon classroom at exactly one o'clock to behold an unusual sight. Normally whenever I walked in at the start of class, all of the students would be sitting ready at their tables with their equipment set out in front of them. Well, today all the male students and equipment were at the tables but about two-thirds of the class' girls were gathered in a loudly chattering crowd near my desk. At the epicentre Avrille was just barely visible as she sat on a high stool. It seemed that she was being besieged with questions and was trying her best to answer without being smothered to death.

The moment the girls heard me slam the classroom door behind me, they fled to their tables so quickly that the wind of their passing ruffled the leaves of parchment the boys had set out for their notes. Avrille was left looking rather shell-shocked, though still excruciatingly lovely in a long dress of dusky rose under her black school-robe that made her creamy complexion glow. Still standing in shadow by the door, I clenched my fists and gritted my teeth as a now familiar wave of utter longing passed through me. Fortunately it was quickly chased away by the displeasure I was feeling over my buzzing class.

Usually the moment I entered, the room would fall absolutely silent. However now, though the girls had scattered like rabbits, they had not ceased their loquacious yammering. As I strode to the head of the class, Avrille flashed me an apologetic smile that somehow, in combination with a raised eyebrow that I found unintentionally seductive, conveyed to me that the moment _she _had entered she was besieged and had had no control over the matter. I gave her a brief nod to show that I understood before grabbing an old wooden pointer near the blackboard and bringing it down hard with a deafening crack on my desk, finally silencing the room in its entirety.

"Thank you," I said quietly as I placed the pointer back against the wall. "Before we begin, I would like to remind certain members of the class that Mistress Asphodel did not travel over three thousand miles to this school to be harassed with inane prattle," I stated, focusing my sweeping gaze pointedly for a moment on Miss Chang and Miss Edgecombe, who had seemed to be the two loudest interrogators.

After roll call I gave a brief lecture concerning the Shrinking Solution before setting the instructions on the board and letting the students get to work. I was beyond thankful that Avrille sat quietly on her stool in the corner taking notes. I had no idea what to say to her. I rounded the dungeons several times, giving criticism where it was needed until the end of the period. As soon as the bell sounded, the class scattered, the girls seemingly too chastised to speak to Avrille again. I magically cleared the board while Avrille packed her bag.

"Do you have any questions, Mistress Asphodel?" I asked quickly as I gathered my things as well.

"No, I don't think so…" she said hesitantly.

"Right then, good afternoon," I bade her and hurried from the classroom. Granted I did have to go immediately to the smaller dungeon for the sixth year N.E.W.T. class, but I still felt like a coward running away from her.

That day ended most satisfactorily. Marcus Flint had taken my instruction and managed to spread the word about the Seeker try-outs; there were over twenty eligible candidates besides Draco Malfoy. It was honestly the first time I had ever seen Draco nervous about anything. He dropped his normally swaggering manner and listened to Flint's directions with such rapt attention I was actually impressed with the boy. It made me wish he would apply the same sort of concentration and diligence to his schoolwork. Draco was the last to show and managed to catch the Snitch each time under twenty seconds. It was beyond obvious that he was the best flier. Flint briefly conferred with Madam Hooch and me. Madam Hooch was glad to witness that Draco had vastly outperformed the competition, even though several of the other candidates were exceedingly good fliers.

Flint appointed Draco Seeker on the spot. Most of the other Slytherins congratulated Draco since they just mostly wanted Slytherin to retain a firm hold on the Quidditch Cup. After the try-out I returned to my office and penned a letter to Lucius informing him of the decision. After dinner Madam Hooch caught me as I was returning to my rooms to inform me that six Nimbus Two Thousand and Ones had just been delivered. It was really quite astounding what enough money could do…

After Avrille's first observation, I thought the worst had past. The anxiety leading up to the event had been much worse than the occurrence itself. I noticed that when I was in class with Avrille, something about the atmosphere and the presence of students kept my wandering mind grounded. It was easy to slip back into the old routine of teaching and pretend that Avrille wasn't even there, which was precisely what was supposed to happen in these first couple months of her apprenticeship. Now that I knew I could handle myself, by Avrille's second observation the following week I was almost calm.

I made sure to be in the classroom Tuesday before the students entered to hopefully deter any mob from forming. As it happened Avrille had a Herbology observation directly before that period, so most of the class had already assembled before she arrived. As she opened the door to the classroom, I tried to not roll my eyes as I was shown an example of the great emotional divide between third and fourth year students. Whereas the third year boys last week had barely even looked at Avrille during class, the moment she entered the room now every single set of male Gryffindor and Ravenclaw eyes were glued to her. Fred and George Weasley even went so far as to stare with their mouths hanging open as she walked breezily past, making me want to smack them both upside their freckled, ginger heads. Since Avrille herself was focused on preparing her notes, she noticed none of this, which was probably for the best.

After the class had finished brewing their Motivation Injections and the bell rang, I was beginning to feel rather confident about the whole situation. At least when Avrille was in class with me I could sort of think of her as another student and not be continually distracted by her presence like I had feared. As long as I continued to avoid seeing her whenever possible out of class, I figured I could manage fine.

That mind-set would have perhaps continued working for me if later that week the entire school had not suddenly been gripped with something I could find no better term for than, "Avrille Hysteria." I don't know what brought it on so suddenly, but when I arrived at my first class of Gryffindor and Hufflepuff fifth years Thursday morning I was greeted by a strange sight: almost every girl in the class had tried to make herself look like Avrille.

Avrille usually wore her long hair up in a dishevelled yet elegant bun, robbing me of the guilty pleasure of watching it cascade like a skein of silk when she turned her head quickly. Perhaps another professor might not have noticed it, but because I always ended up studying Avrille so intently, I could tell right away that every single girl with long hair had managed to copy Avrille's chignon perfectly. Not only that, but each girl had switched her normal penny loafers or oxford shoes for high-heeled pumps. Since Avrille was an apprentice and therefore not required to wear full-length staff robes, her stylish high heels were always visible.

At first I thought I was just being paranoid. It was possible I was so obsessed with Avrille that I was likely to connect things to her which would normally pass the notice of someone else. But by the time classes had ended for the day, I knew that it had not been my imagination: the entire female student body of Hogwarts was in the grip of Avrille-fever.

I have no idea how it was managed unless through some sort of mass female telepathy. If a girl did not have her hair tied up in the signature knot, then she was bound to be wearing high heels. Some of the younger student girls who had tried to copy their older peers were not as adept at walking several inches higher on something thinner than the average wand point and kept getting their spikes caught between flag stones; I saw more than one girl fall flat on her face that week. The most vexing thing was that I couldn't do anything about this sudden explosion of Avrille-mimicking, which was now reminding me of her every single time I saw a girl trying to look like her; technically the girls were not breaking the dress-code so I could not tell them to change.

Another more general phenomenon was a sudden obsession with American culture. It seemed whatever Avrille had told various students about her schools back home it had sparked a mania within their adolescent minds. Suddenly the most popular items for trade were no longer Chocolate Frog cards or limited edition Gobstones but instead back-issues of American fashion magazines, the most recent of course being the most sought after. I had the unhappy pleasure of discovering these Friday afternoon.

Padma Patil and Hannah Abbott had been secretly reading one such magazine under their table during double Potions. They had been so distracted giggling over the articles that they did not even notice my approach until I physically snatched the magazine out of their hands. At the end of class, the two girls approached my desk.

"May I please have my magazine back, sir?" Miss Abbott asked me.

"No," I replied sharply. "And you are lucky I did not give you both detentions which will certainly occur if I ever catch you reading rubbish in my class again."

Miss Abbott looked on the verge of tears after I said this. She allowed herself to be led away by Miss Patil, who I heard whisper consolingly, "Don't worry, my mum is getting me and Parvati each a subscription. You can have mine when I'm done reading it, ok?" Miss Abbott sniffled loudly and turned back to give me a teary look before following her friend to their next class.

I sighed deeply and then grabbed the magazine which I had tossed onto my desk after confiscating it. I turned it over to reveal a cover blazing the title, "Teen Witch USA!" in hot pink letters with a flashing pink heart dotting the i in "Witch." Beneath the title was plastered a picture of a disturbingly skinny teenaged girl dressed in what seemed to be strategically draped shredded scarves and wearing enormous gold earrings hanging down to her shoulders. She was also repeatedly flashing a dazzling white smile that rivalled Lockhart's. Morbid curiosity forced me to investigate further.

I flipped the magazine open to a random page in the middle which bore-in a slightly different shade of blinding pink than the cover-the bubble-lettered headline: "Twenty Totally _LEGAL_ Charms to Make Him Notice _You!_" I quickly flung the magazine into the trash bin, then incinerated it for good measure. That article looked absolutely terrifying. I was horrified at the thought of Avrille possibly having read things like _that _when she was younger, and I made a mental note to mention to the other members of staff that they better be on a lookout for boys suddenly swooning after normally unpopular girls.

If any doubt remained in my mind that everyone in the school was suddenly obsessed with Avrille, it was removed once I started to actually listen to the students' conversations, something I always tried my utmost to avoid. The first time it had happened quite accidentally. I had been in the library looking for a certain book when I heard two girls talking a few rows behind me. Because it was dinnertime and the library was absolutely silent, I had no choice in overhearing a few sentences of their giggled exchange.

The first girl said in a dreamy sigh, "Didn't Professor Lockhart look so _gorgeous_ this morning at breakfast? He and Mistress Asphodel would make _such_ a cute couple…"

"No way! Mistress Asphodel _is_ the coolest, but he's _mine!_" the second girl declared fiercely. Convinced that I had just heard some of the most nauseating statements every uttered in the history of mankind, I quickly cast a Silence Charm around myself before I heard any more and was actually sick.

After that I began to notice more what students were talking about as I passed them in the halls. Within a single walk through the entrance hall, I heard one girl say to another, "You know, you should ask Mistress Asphodel about that! She gave me some great advice the other day…" and someone amidst a congregated group of male Hufflepuff seventh years moan quite loudly, "_Miss A_! I _love_ you!" which made all of his friends burst out into riotous laughter.

I really did not know how much more of it I could stand. It was getting ridiculous among the staff as well. Lately all I heard Pomona talking about at dinner, no matter who was listening, was how impressed she was with her apprentice. I started trying to avoid sitting near her as well as Avrille so as not to be drawn into any such conversation. As much as I agreed with Pomona's sentiments, I did not think I could put words to them so easily if asked _my_ opinion of Avrille. I would probably just choke.

I wondered how long all of this would last. I had never seen such a reaction to a new staff member before. Even Lockhart did not seem to be having such a lasting impression on the students. Avrille just seemed to have the perfect mix of stunning good looks, sharp intelligence, charming amicability, and foreign mystique to make her a virtual celebrity to both the girls who wanted to emulate her and the boys who, well, were probably thinking the same thoughts I was.

The ironic thing was that I was fairly sure Avrille herself had no idea any of this was going on. I knew her to be simply too busy to take much notice in what the students did, and I knew that that was partly my fault. Ever since her first observation, it was evident that Avrille was doing everything she could to impress me. The problem was that I found I could never find a way to let her know how good her work was. I feared that even a simple compliment might alert her to how I really felt about her. Therefore I kept doing as before, trying my best to avoid Avrille and ignore the mania she had unknowingly caused around her.


	9. Chapter Nine: AVRILLE

CHAPTER NINE

_Avrille_

Since I was determined to improve my standing in Professor Snape's mind, I skipped lunch before my first observation with him and instead spent over an hour filling and arranging the student store cupboard so that it was perfect. Since the class directly followed lunch, many of the students arrived early as well once they were done eating. I soon found myself surrounded by over a dozen of the girls who immediately introduced themselves and began asking me numerous questions like what did I eat at my old school and wasn't I sad to not have gone to school with any boys? I was actually glad to have this extra time to learn the girls' names before Professor Snape arrived. Once the students were all in their seats, he ran through the attendance so quickly I barely had a chance to put names to the rough seating chart I had drawn to use in my observation notes.

During that first observation I found myself sneaking glances at Professor Snape whenever I could. I don't know what it was specifically about him that made him so riveting. It had something to do with his rigidly straight posture and the way he could command the attention of the room with a tone only slightly louder than a whisper. I think the most of the students were absolutely terrified of him. It was as if they knew that if Professor Snape ever had to raise his voice it would be like heralding some unthinkable disaster upon everyone.

One thing I really liked about his teaching style was that he didn't help the students at all once they set about to start the actual brewing of their potions. If they made an obvious mistake he pointed it out, rather publicly, but otherwise he left the students to figure it out on their own. It might have seemed a harsh way of teaching to the students, but I knew that Professor Snape's method was installing early critical thinking and problem solving skills which were essential if one wanted to become a successful potion-maker. Following a professor's carefully laid out instructions would only get you so far; the real test came when you messed up and if you were able to salvage your work and continue on. I found I really admired Professor Snape for making even the younger students responsible for their own work.

Once the class was over, I spent a little time returning the unused ingredients to their containers in the store closet and tidying up before returning to my room. By now I had managed to have a few conversations with Lavinia, who had informed me of all sorts of useful things around the castle. For one, each staff member had in their rooms a speaking tube which led directly to the castle kitchens so if you had to miss a meal you could request one to be sent directly to your room instead. I took advantage of this as soon as I kicked off my shoes and ordered a sandwich and some amazing clam chowder which made me a little homesick.

After eating I walked down to the office I had been given on the second floor. Since I was only an apprentice the office was more like a glorified closet, but I was happy simply because it was _mine_. Once at my desk, I took out my notes from earlier and mapped out a basic outline. I then worked for hours straight on my written evaluation for Professor Snape. He had been right when he mentioned that his expectations for my apprenticeship were more exacting than Professor Sprout's. Professor Sprout was happy with a single roll of parchment and had basically told me to turn it in to her whenever I was done. Though Professor Snape had given me three days in which to complete the evaluation, I really wanted to impress him, so I stayed up all night finishing my first one. I bet the house-elves must have had a continual pot of coffee brewing that night just for me.

The first draft ended up being over _five_ rolls of parchment. I managed to cut it down to a still impressive three and a half, hoping that the content was "profound" enough for him. After making one final draft, painstakingly printed in my best handwriting, I walked down to Professor Snape's office and deposited the finished product in the mailbox outside his door just as the castle bell tolled five in the morning. Since I didn't have any observations that day, I went straight back up to bed and slept until dinner.

Saturday morning dawned sunny and warm, making me extra glad that I had managed to complete my work early. I ate a leisurely breakfast with Lavinia. She also asked me about my former schools, with certainly more professional interest than the students, though she too was dying to know how I had survived with no boys around. She made quite the comical face when I remarked that I had always been too busy with work to really notice it. She did not know of my difficulties with magic, so I suppose it was hard for her to understand how schoolwork could literally take up all of my time. Professor Snape was at breakfast as well for once, though he did not speak to me, leaving me wondering if he had even read my evaluation yet.

As I was rising to leave the staff table, Lockhart came up to me. Today he was wearing mauve robes that made the apples of his cheeks seem pinker than normal as he grinned at me. At least I hoped it was the robes creating that effect; I honestly would not have put it past him to use blush.

"Would you care to join me in a walk around the grounds later this afternoon, Mistress Asphodel? I was thinking of taking a turn after I've completed my daily fan mail replies," he said in a disgustingly cheery voice. I heard Lavinia snort a laugh behind me then try to cover it up as a strange cough.

"I don't think I can. I'm afraid I am just bogged down with work today, Professor Lockhart," I lied. I wasn't sure if I was simply being paranoid, but it felt like Lockhart had been everywhere I was the past few days. Every arrival of mine at mealtime had been quite interesting since I had about two seconds to peruse the seating arrangements and quickly find a place where Lockhart could not sit next to me and also try to avoid sitting near Professor Snape since I was petrified of potentially embarrassing myself in front of him.

Lockhart waved a hand effeminately in front of himself. "Please, please, call me Gilderoy! I'm sure you can find _some_ time! I personally try very hard not to overwork myself. Bad for the complexion."

"Again, I'm sorry Professor Lo… ah… Gilderoy. Professor Snape asked me to do something for him that just can't wait. Maybe another time…" Just as I said this, I noticed Professor Snape had risen from his seat near the center of the table and seemed to have glanced in my direction just as the words had left my mouth. Damn it. Why hadn't I said Professor Sprout instead? She had left the hall long ago…

With that I quickly hurried out the staff door before Lockhart could argue any further and before Professor Snape passed me on _his_ way out. I was furious because I _had_ wanted to take a walk later, but now I had to pretend to be working so Lockhart wouldn't see me and ask me awkward questions. Well, why didn't I just go for a walk now? Since he would be busy with his fan mail (oh God…), Lockhart wouldn't know I was outside, now would he?

Since it was very warm already, I didn't even bother to return to my room for a cloak but set directly out of the front doors and walked as quickly as I could away from the castle. First, I made a stop down by the lake which was glittering brightly beneath the late morning sun. The walk had made me pretty hot, and I was just wondering if the students ever went swimming when several giant tentacles pierced the water's surface before crashing back down with an explosive splash. I nearly fell over in my surprise. I had no idea _what_ that had been, but assumed whatever it was, Professor Dumbledore knew about it, and thus it was probably nothing to worry about. Probably. Nevertheless, I suddenly decided that the school's gardens would be _much_ more pleasant to walk through.

Hogwarts' gardens were enormous and stretched on for acres. I walked aimlessly through rows of green squash and cabbage, picking out a weed here and there when I saw one. Ahead of me I saw what looked like an orchard, so I strode over to investigate. I saw trees heavy with apples and vines covered in plump grapes, but I also noticed that there were odd trees growing as lushly as the more expected ones. I definitely saw several positively dripping with juicy oranges, and, when I walked across a few rows, I was literally stopped dead in my tracks by the sight of a line of tall palms bending slightly with the weight of numerous bananas. I heard a heavy set of footfalls approaching behind me. I turned, my mouth hanging open, my eyebrows knit together in disbelief, and with an arm stretched out in the direction of the certainly out of place fruit, to be greeted by the hearty laugh of Mr. Hagrid.

"Didn' believe those meself first time I saw 'em!" he said merrily.

"Just… how?" I gasped.

"Ah… Well, Professor Dumbledore has those charmed so tha' they survive even in the snow," he replied, leaning on an enormous hoe, the handle of which was about the size of one of my bed posts.

"Wow…" I breathed quietly.

"I was jus' abou' to take a break here. Care to join me for a cuppa tea?" Mr. Hagrid asked. Now _there_ was an invitation was I glad to accept.

"Sure!" I replied and followed Mr. Hagrid as he led the way through the orchard back to his little hut just off the edge of the sweeping castle lawn. As Mr. Hagrid leaned the hoe against the side of the hut and opened the front door, a large dog came dashing out. He circled me a few times excitedly before bounding away into a patch of enormous pumpkins just off to the side. Maybe he sensed I was a cat person at heart.

"That's Fang, tha' is," Mr. Hagrid said fondly, looking after the dog. "Don' mind him. He's jus' a big baby." This last comment left me wondering as I followed him into the hut as the last sight of Fang I had was of the dog ripping a length of rope to pieces while growling furiously.

Mr. Hagrid motioned for me to sit at one side of an enormous scrubbed oak table as he filled a giant copper kettle with water and placed it over the fire crackling merrily in the hearth. "Tha' shouldn' take too long," he commented as he sat down across from me with a great sigh and stretched his massive arms up over his head.

"Thank you very much for inviting me over, Mr. Hagrid," I said sincerely. It was nice to talk to someone who wasn't Lavinia or Professor Sprout. Or Lockhart for that matter.

He waved a meaty hand in front of himself, creating quite a different effect than when Lockhart had done it earlier, and said, "Now, none o' this 'mister' nonsense! Jus' Hagrid will do fine…" He leaned forward on the table, his bushy beard scratching against the surface as he studied me intently. "So," he said finally. "How are yeh liking the school so far?"

My first instinct was to fall back on time honoured politeness and say, oh I was having the time of my life and nothing could be better, but something about Mr.… I mean, Hagrid's warm black, crinkled eyes made me feel like I could really open up to him.

"Actually," I began, "I love the school, but I'm rather worried that Professor Snape doesn't like me very much…"

To my great surprise, Hagrid's face broke into an even more crinkly smile as he slapped his knee in amusement. "That's the same thing tha' Harry said when _he_ first came over fer tea!" Hagrid laughed.

"Harry Potter?" I asked.

"Yeh," Hagrid replied. "Tho' I reckon Harry was righ' on tha' one, there's some history there, unfortunately… But I find it _very_ hard ter believe tha' Professor Snape wouldn' like _you_," Hagrid finished with a decisive nod that almost made me blush. "He's jus' been in a sour mood ever since Professor Lockhart was made the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. Professor Snape… well, I don' really like ter gossip, but he's been applyin' fer the Defence post ever since he started workin' here years back."

"Why doesn't Professor Dumbledore just give it to him?" I asked curiously.

"I don' rightly know meself. I'm sure Dumbledore's got his reasons. Probably figures it'd be impossible ter find a better Potions master than Professor Snape. Easier ter just appoint a new Defence teacher, even though _this_ one makes me wonder…" Hagrid trailed off, making me grin this time, since I knew he was just too polite to put words to what he thought of Lockhart.

"My point is," Hagrid continued, "Professor Snape's jus' had a rather rough time lately. I'm sure he'll come 'round to yeh soon." I nodded silently, hoping that he was right.

Fang barked loudly outside. Hagrid, who was facing the window, squinted and murmured, "Well, speak o' the devil himself…"

I whipped around, wondering if it could possibly be Professor Snape, but was alarmed to see that it was Lockhart instead, striding purposefully toward the cottage while whistling jauntily. Something from my expression, probably set in the utmost of horror, told Hagrid that I was not keen on seeing Lockhart right then.

"I got a back door, if yeh wan' ter use it," he whispered.

"Thanks!" I gasped and jumped up. Hagrid led me around the corner of his bed and pulled back a hanging quilt to reveal a small bolted door. Hagrid lifted the heavy bolt with one hand and held the door open for me.

"Sorry about the tea," I said quickly.

"No matter, I understan'. Maybe some other time!" Hagrid "gently" shooed me outside-making me nearly stumble down the two steps-just as Lockhart knocked on the front door. Hagrid gave me one more friendly grin before closing the back door. I quickly set off back through the orchards and didn't stop for breath until Hagrid's hut was well out of view. I felt sort of bad, abandoning Hagrid to deal with Lockhart by himself, but I figured Hagrid was up to the task. I briskly walked back to the castle, wondering why Lockhart had been out so early. Maybe he had decided to save the fan mail until later…

Unfortunately, Hagrid's assurances of Professor Snape's change of heart towards me did not pan out as he had predicted. Monday morning I walked down to my office to check my mailbox and saw that Professor Snape had returned my evaluation. I eagerly unrolled it, then wondered if he had received it after all; there were no corrections or notes that I could see. I turned it over to the last page and saw then that he _had_ written a comment. It simply said, "Satisfactory."

Satisfactory? That was it?

I slumped against the wall and felt something brush my ankle. I looked down to see another, smaller piece of parchment at my feet. It must have fallen out from the roll, and in my haste to check out the evaluation, I hadn't noticed. I bent over to retrieve it, then unrolled it. After reading a few lines, I realized that it was an answer to the question that I had asked Professor Snape at his lecture in London. I smiled to myself, touched that he had remembered. His answer was brief, yet comprehensive, and seemed to have been written before he had known who I was. I found it strange that he had tried to reply without knowing my name (which had obviously been added later in a slightly darker ink) or address, but just figured that he was one of those people who didn't like to leave loose ends. The letter made me feel slightly better, but I was still rather disappointed that Professor Snape hadn't seemed to be impressed with my speedy writing skills. At least he never mentioned that he had overheard me lying to Lockhart the other day, though I figured if he had, he probably would have understood.

The next week of classes passed rather the same as the last one. I finally had my first Herbology observation. My second happened to be the class in which Harry Potter was member. I had to admit it was rather anticlimactic seeing him in the flesh after hearing about him for half of my life. He was just an average-looking preteen, though slightly on the scrawny side, his lightning bolt scar usually covered by thick bangs which I suspected he grew out just for that purpose. He and his friends were polite and respectful to me, making me wonder if these were the same Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley who had caused such massive damage to the Whomping Willow with their flying car.

Professor Snape's classes were always interesting, though rather sedate and uneventful. Professor Snape barely spoke to me except to ask if I had any questions to which I always replied no. He never openly criticized anything I did in the observation, so I assumed that I was meeting his expectations. I didn't exhaust myself with an overnighter for the next evaluation and handed it in after two days. Professor Snape did not mention the difference in delivery time, so I didn't worry about it. I received that evaluation back with the same note of "Satisfactory" as the first one.

Before long it was the weekend once more. I did actually have more work to do than during the last one, but I finished most of it Saturday morning. On my way to dinner that night, I remembered there had been a book I had wanted to look for in the library. After I finished eating, I headed over to the library which was surprisingly full with students doing research or conducting study groups.

The entry for the book in the card catalogue stated that it was to be found in row XVII of the Restricted Section. Even though the Restricted Section was only separated from the main library by a short metal grate, it seemed that the whispered hum of the students' voices ceased the moment I stepped into it. Even the soft clank the grate made when I latched it sounded thin and hollow as though the thick books cramming the shelves sucked every sound into their brittle pages. As I slowly made my way through the towering shelves, my shoes made no discernible noise on the scuffed wooden floor, even though I was making no particular effort to be quiet. Every few moments I felt a prickle at the base of my neck, perhaps caused by the waves of magical knowledge interlacing throughout the aisles, unchecked and waiting for an inquiring mind to soak them up.

I easily located the row I needed about halfway into the Restricted Section. The light was dimmer back here than in the main aisles, but with a bit of squinting and brushing off dusty call numbers, I finally found the shelf where the book was supposed to be. Ah yes, there it was, its dark navy spine sticking slightly out from the others on the shelf as if a browser had decided at the last moment not to take it after all. The only problem lay in the fact that the book was resting on a shelf three rows higher than eyelevel for me. Even standing on tiptoes my fingers were a good foot short. I tried jumping for it, which only resulted in streaking dust down the front of my robes. I stared up hard at the book, so frustrating in its nearness. As I thought about it, I did not recall seeing any sort of stools or ladders around the library; obviously out-of-reach books were easily levitated down by students or with the aid of a faculty member. Ha.

I had just tried reaching up again in the crazy hope that perhaps I could will my arm to stretch an additional twelve inches when I heard a deep voice say, "Mistress Asphodel?"

I jumped slightly at the sudden sound and whipped around to see Professor Snape staring at me quizzically from the end of the aisle, holding several books himself. "You startled me!" I gasped with a hand over my heart. The eerie quietness of the area had totally muffled his approach.

"Forgive me," he said and walked toward me down the aisle. "Do you need help with something?" he asked kindly.

"Oh, yes, if you wouldn't mind," I replied, pointing up at the book I wanted. "I was starting to consider climbing…"

"I would not have recommended that," Professor Snape said matter-of-factly with a quick glance down at my three-inch heels as he withdrew his wand from his robes. With a sharp flick, Professor Snape easily Summoned the book to him. He glanced at the cover before handing it to me.

"Thanks!" I said, accepting it. Professor Snape stored his wand away once more and wiped his dusty hand on the inside of his sleeve.

"Not at all."

I opened the book and quickly flipped through a few pages, wondering if it was worth the trouble after all. It did look quite technical, but no more than had I expected. I knew the author had included a few new theories about the lasting potency of potions containing the powdered horns shed from female unicorns as opposed to the preferentially used males since the females' powers tended to wax and wane ever so slightly with each moon cycle as per their mating times…

I glanced up and was surprised to see that Professor Snape was still there since I had assumed he had left once he handed off the book to me. He met my gaze and was silent for a beat before jerking his chin slightly at the open book in my hands and remarking, "I found that rather interesting."

"Oh, I know," I replied as I snapped the cover shut and appraised the author's moving portrait on the back of the jacket. "I mean, you referenced it several times in _Reconstructing Medieval Poisons and Antidotes,_ so I thought I would check it out."

Professor Snape looked at me in what seemed to be a combination of confusion and astonishment. "You've read one of my books?" he asked after a moment.

"I've read all of them! That one was my favourite, though. I loved your theory on how it must have been a Unicorn Tincture which saved the prince of Denmark from that poisoned duelling blade…" I found myself enthusiastically blurting out. Inside I winced, hoping that I hadn't sounded as much of a fan-girl to Professor Snape as I had to myself. However, that quick embarrassment was soon forgotten as Professor Snape did something I had never seen him do before: he smiled.

It had been brief and almost indiscernible, as he seemed to have tried to hide it by ducking his head slightly as he shifted his few books from one arm to the other. The movement made his black hair fall protectively over his eyes but had failed to adequately conceal the quick half-grin that for the briefest moment completely transformed him from the stern instructor I was used to into a _quite_ handsome man. I was suddenly acutely aware once more of the dark grime smearing the front of my robes and of the fact that I was wearing the skirt with the fallen hem I hadn't gotten around to mending.

However, as quick as the smile had been there, so it was gone. When he looked back up at me, Professor Snape's face was once more as cool and impassive as ever. "I'm very flattered," he said. "Well then, I shall see you in class on Monday." With a slight incline of his head to me, Professor Snape turned and walked briskly back down the aisle and around the corner.

As soon as he was out of sight, I let out the breath I had not realized I had been holding and leaned against the book shelf, ignoring the fact that I would now have a nice dust stripe down the back as well. It seemed almost impossible in its unlikelihood, but that had been the first conversation I had had with Professor Snape since my observations with him had begun. He barely seemed to notice me the entire week when I was not in class with him. I, of course, had been beginning to form the impression that he always had more pressing matters at hand than to spend unnecessary time with his apprentice out of class. Maybe he had noticed something to the same effect and had been trying to make the extra effort just now. But no matter why he had stayed for that additional moment, the encounter had wrought an intense transformation within me.

This might sound really strange, but up until just then I had never really considered Professor Snape to be a normal person. It was just that I had read and reread his books all through graduate school to the point that, though I didn't even know what he looked like, I practically idolized him. He was just so incredibly brilliant and made me see so many things in potion-making that I would have never learned from school alone. Even after I arrived here at Hogwarts and actually met Professor Snape, I still felt he was so intellectually above me that I never stopped to consider that he was just a man.

But that smile… That changed everything for me. Somehow I had managed to break through his stoic, authoritarian wall and for an instant caught glimpse of a man just a few years older than me with a smile that made his grey eyes shine in a way which, with the combination of a few roguishly out of place jet-black locks, made me feel close to fainting at the sight of it.

After a few more deep breaths, I righted myself and beat as much dust off of my robes as I could manage. I couldn't believe I hadn't realized it before now; it was so glaringly obvious. As I walked out from the Restricted Section, I pondered the enormous problem suddenly on my hands. I had only completed the first two weeks of my ten-month apprenticeship, and I had the most embarrassingly huge crush on Professor Snape.


	10. Chapter Ten: SEVERUS

CHAPTER TEN

_Severus_

September soon passed into October as the students and we faculty alike struggled to transition back into the school routine. I was already once again quite used to sacrificing most of my evenings and Saturdays for detentions and back into my usual schedule of sleeping less than six hours a night due to the amount of assignments there were to mark. I was greatly looking forward to the following month when Avrille would be starting to correct some of the easier assignments herself. I told myself it was because of her removing some of the burden of marking the dullest homework I usually had to read and not at all because it was an airtight excuse to spend several hours at a time shut up alone with her in my office.

The first two Slytherin Quidditch practises had proved very promising. Despite his nerves during the try-outs, Draco fit in with the established team well and continued to catch the Snitch incredibly quickly. As long as Draco was able to keep a clear head in front of the crowd, I could not find a reason why Slytherin shouldn't be able to keep a firm hold on our winning streak.

The second Saturday in October found me miraculously without any detentions to supervise, so I decided to go to the hothouses to pick up some herbs that Pomona had promised me. The castle was virtually empty since almost every person was either in Hogsmeade or out on the castle lawns enjoying the first sunny day in over a week. The air was pleasantly warm and smelled fresh from the week's continuous downpour.

I made my way slowly to the hothouses, enjoying the sunshine and not even particularly annoyed that a good six inches of my robes were soaked from the dripping grass. The land around me was quiet except for the chirpings of birds, the castle providing a welcomed sound barrier to the noise coming from the lake where most of the students were laying around relaxing. However, as I neared Hothouse Four, I started to hear another sound, obviously not the song from a bird but sounding just as sweet.

I located the source of the singing as I passed the open doorway of one of the hothouses which contained the more tropical plants. Avrille was standing just inside the doorway with her back turned towards me, repotting several drooping Ochre Orchids. Because of the steamy conditions inside the hothouse, Avrille had removed her work-robes leaving her clad only in a sleeveless jersey dress which left her arms and shoulders tantalizingly bare. The dark brown dress hugged her slim form, no longer leaving the exact curves of her body to my imagination. One of Avrille's hands broke away from the flower she had been tending to rub at her neck, which was glistening with a mixture of sweat and condensation. The movement dislodged a shiny tress that had been threatening to escape Avrille's loose bun. I let my eyes follow the runaway strands as they slowly slid down her back and knew that the sudden rush of heat I felt had nothing to do with the climate of the hothouse.

Normally when finding myself in such a situation, my first instinct would have been to remove myself promptly from the area. Yet something about Avrille's quiet singing fixed my feet to the ground. The quality of her voice was crystalline in its untrained purity, her notes lilting and effervescent. The strange thing was, even though on the surface the song sounded light and airy, Avrille was somehow infusing it with great power, a power so strong that it was able to distract me away from devouring Avrille with my eyes to focus completely on the song wrapping itself tightly around me. I closed my eyes to block out visual temptation and concentrated on Avrille's voice instead.

I could not understand the words she sang, though they sounded as though they could have been French. I doubt that if I could have known the words to the song it would have mattered much. The power was coming from Avrille herself. It hung heavy in the moist air; I could almost feel my lungs fill with it as I breathed. The magic she was creating with her voice was like nothing I had ever experienced before. I found her magic to be as intoxicatingly alluring as Avrille herself was physically to me. I wanted to lose myself in the warm waves of her sung spell and never come up for air.

Once inside me, the spell seemed to settle in my soul. It plucked at the loose emotions that had begun struggling futilely against the cold stone weight of my better judgment the moment I had realised Avrille was alone in the hothouse. From deep within me, I could almost feel a voice humming, _Why don't you just talk to her?_ _She obviously admires you… What harm could a little conversation bring?_

My ever present rationale, of course, began to try to regain control of the situation immediately. Logic told me that, though perhaps she was doing it unknowingly, Avrille was somehow casting a Strengthening Charm on the flowers. This charm, passing through Avrille's voice, had of course begun to influence me and was affecting me by way of increasing my self-confidence. My rational-self informed me it would be prudent to quickly return to the castle and come back for the herbs some other time. A cold shower probably would probably be beneficial as well. However, the enthralling lure of Avrille's magic was too strong. Before I realised what I was doing, I had knocked quietly on the wooden door frame to attract Avrille's attention.

Avrille spun sharply at the noise, and she abruptly ceased singing. This, of course, stopped the spell, leaving me with the effect of something like having ice-water poured down my neck as I stood there, now in the full blast of her startled exquisiteness without the comforting hum of the strengthening spell for support. I was at a loss for words. Avrille seemed rather the same, her gleaming skin colouring with a self-conscious strawberry flush as she furtively tried to brush off her soil-caked hands.

Finally Avrille broke the few awkward moments of silence by remaking embarrassedly, "I know it's silly, but I always sing when I'm gardening… Muggles seem to think that it helps the plants to grow healthier."

"Well, most of the spells in ancient times _were_ sung," I found myself saying, falling back as usual on factual knowledge to sustain a conversation. "Perhaps Muggles have some sort of innate understanding of the power of music."

"I never thought of that…" Avrille said musingly. It appeared that she had no idea of the magic she had just been working after all.

Having finally spoken aloud helped me to gather my wits once more. "I was actually looking for Professor Sprout," I said truthfully.

"She had to go to London for the day," Avrille replied, turning back to the Ochre Orchids.

"I see." I fixed my gaze solidly on the dripping green foliage above Avrille's head to avoid more dishonourable voyeurism.

"Is there anything that I could help you with instead?" Avrille asked as she turned back towards me while lifting a repotted orchid and depositing it on a table standing between us.

"I just needed some herbs."

"Well, that's easy," Avrille said as she brushed off her hands once more. "Why don't you follow me to Hothouse Two? I'm sure I can find what you need there." With that, Avrille grabbed her work-robes and slid them on as she strode past me out the door. I relished the mixed scent of warm earth and Avrille's perfume, heightened slightly by her perspiration, before following her back through the rows of hothouses to the one situated closest to the castle.

"Which ones did you need specifically?" Avrille asked me as she pushed the door open for us.

"Aconite, Sol Terrestis, Lady's Foxglove, and Yellow Avens," I listed. "They're for a Wolfsbane Potion." I hastily added this because a couple of the herbs also factored into several love potions, and I didn't want Avrille to form any strange impressions of me.

"I'll need these then," Avrille murmured to herself as she grabbed a pair of dragon hide gloves along with a set of shears. "That's quite the potion! Do you mind if I ask why you're making it?" She led me down a row of plants, scanning for one of the ones I needed.

"Certainly not," I replied. "Saint Mungo's hospital runs a monthly public service clinic where werewolves can receive the potion free of charge. Since not many people can correctly brew the Wolfsbane Potion, the hospital asked me a few years ago if I would be willing to contribute to the program. I usually help supply the potion for November."

Avrille gave me one of her glowing smiles as she stopped in front of the Aconite. "That's so nice!" she said. She pulled on the gloves and asked, "How much of the potion will you be making then?"

"A whole cauldron full. Size three."

With a deft motion, Avrille sliced exactly the right amount of sprigs required for that amount of potion from the plant. I Conjured a bag and held it open for her as she gathered the cuttings delicately between gloved fingers. "I assumed you wouldn't need extra. You must be a master at that potion by now," she commented with another smile as she gently placed the cuttings inside. I was honoured by her compliment and could not think of any words to say in response. It didn't seem to bother Avrille for she moved on down the row to the Lady's Foxglove.

As she appraised the plants to find the freshest leaves, Avrille gave her head a little disbelieving shake and breathed a low whistle. "Wow… A Wolfsbane Potion. Can't say that I've ever made one myself…"

"Would you care to assist me? Then you can say that you have." The words were out of my mouth before I even had a chance to consider them. My first reaction would normally have been to curse myself for my rashness and hope that by some miracle Avrille would decline. But instead I found, perhaps because of some remnant of her earlier Strengthening Charm still within me, I did not regret saying that at all. Actually, I was hoping that she _would_ agree because I was realising how much I was enjoying this time alone with her.

Just as I hoped, Avrille's face lit up as she replied, "I would love to! I mean, are you sure you don't mind?"

"Not at all." And I meant it. I found that although talking with Avrille like this was not helping me with the problem of being completely taken with her, at least it was making me less terrified of being in her presence.

"I'll be starting the preparations later in the week. Because the full moon is mid-month this year, I'm not in any rush. I would be glad to walk you through it step-by-step if you wish."

"That would be really great," Avrille said as she sheared off several sprigs of Lady's Foxglove. "Not to speak badly about my Potions teacher at the Academy, but she was a rather impatient woman so we didn't end up covering quite as many of the potions with long brewing times as I would have liked. My father, actually, knew how to brew the Wolfsbane but… Well… He wasn't able to teach me…" Avrille trailed the sentence off quietly as though she hadn't mean to say it. Avrille must have been unsure whether or not I knew of her personal history, and I didn't blame her for not wanting to talk about it.

I watched Avrille harvest the last of the herbs with a heavy heart. I knew that had he lived, Armand Asphodel would have been proud to see what an excellent potion-maker his daughter had become, yet I was painfully aware of the fact I did not know Avrille personally enough to express such a sentiment to her. However, I did take note that Avrille had never mentioned her father to me before, so perhaps this was a sign she was starting to trust me a little.

Once I had the herbs that I had come for, I thanked Avrille and let her to return to her work. I myself decided to return to the castle to store the herbs safely away. When that was done, I retreated to the dark sanctuary of my rooms. I knew that I should have forced myself into my office instead since I had a dozen recommendation letters to write for seventh years who were beginning their applications to graduate schools. However, I felt even I could use an afternoon off once in a while.

After changing into more casual clothing, I ordered tea to be sent down. While I waited for the tea to steep, I sat deep in thought. One of the mysteries surrounding Avrille had been solved that afternoon: she _did_ still possess magical ability, and it seemed to be still just as powerful as Dumbledore had implied it to be at the beginning of the term.

After I had formally met Avrille and found myself to have a more personal interest in her, I had done a little research into documented occurrences where a witch or wizard had their powers sapped from emotional trauma. In all of the cases I reviewed, the person eventually recovered their magical ability, though for some it took several years. However, there was nothing recorded I could uncover where the person had gone without magic for fifteen years, such as Avrille had so far. A possible explanation for Avrille's situation could be that since she had such an innately strong reservoir of ability within her, it would take that much longer for it to be recovered; e.g. a pond drained of water would take a longer time to refill than a spilled bucket of water. But, from what I had felt coming from Avrille earlier in the hothouse, that did not seem to fit. My instinct told me that all of the power Avrille had ever had was there, somehow buried deep inside of her. Since it seemed highly unlikely that she would consciously negate her own magic, there must be something in her unconscious refusing to allow the magic to manifest itself.

I poured myself a cup of tea and added a splash of cream. I sat back against the chair and stared at my reflection in a mirror across the room. The easiest way to solve Avrille's problem would be to go into her mind itself and see if there was any visible hindrance, such as a repressed memory. A full probe of her mind would also reveal if she had been the unknowing victim of a curse or poison around the time of her father's death. The problem with this was, of course, that I couldn't simply go up to Avrille and say, "Good afternoon, I would like to penetrate your mind for an hour or two."

In order to make any headway on Avrille's problem, I would need her complete trust. Forced entry into her thoughts could never work. Not only would it be the most reprehensible of actions, but it would most likely also cause the mental equivalent of a knee-jerk reaction, making Avrille clamp down even more tightly on sensitive memories to protect them.

I placed the empty teacup back on the saucer and Vanished the serving set back to the kitchens. I had hoped that some refreshment would relax me, but I was too far gone with hypotheses and conjectures to allow my mind to rest.

There were many things I wanted concerning Avrille, and none of them were permissible at the moment. She did not fancy me, and I saw no chance of her ever doing so in the future. I wasn't even sure if I _wanted_ her to feel that way. Everything in my life was just so complicated. I _was_ sure, however, that the only true thing I wanted was for Avrille to be happy. And even if she could not eventually love me, I wanted her to trust me. But how could that ever happen? Trust was a two way street. In order for me to learn more about her and discover what fears might be blocking her magic, she would have to know my own history first.

I stared down hard at my left forearm, revulsion burning like bile in the back of my throat. How could I delude myself that Avrille would trust me when she found out what I used to be? That would be the end. Once she knew the truth about my past, I would disgust her.

I had been in my final year at Hogwarts the spring Avrille's father was killed. It was only by chance, a whim of Fate perhaps, that I had even heard of the event at all. I had been told by a friend of mine named Carrington who was a fellow Slytherin and later became a fellow Death Eater. It turned out he had an elder cousin in Canada who had been one of the men captured at the scene of the crime and sent to Oswald Island for attempted kidnapping and accessory to murder. Unfortunately, the cousin had not been the wizard who cast the fatal curse on Armand Asphodel, Carrington revealed bitterly.

I don't know why that event stuck in my mind for so many years afterward. I think it was perhaps because it was then when I realised just how far the Dark Lord's power had reached if murders were being committed for him across oceans. At the time I had thought it awe-inspiring, even exciting. I had yearned to be like those men in Canada, to believe in something so strongly I would be willing to kill for it.

Remembering those feelings now left me feeling revolted and ashamed. It could be argued that risking my life for the Order of the Phoenix later redeemed my past feelings and actions. I could convince myself I had been simply young and vulnerable to outside influence. But to me no excuse would ever be able to justify those six months when I had been a willing, eager servant of the Dark Lord. If I could not even forgive myself, how could I expect Avrille to understand me?

How could I ever tell Avrille that I had once willingly aligned myself with the very monster in whose name her father had been murdered?


	11. Chapter Eleven: AVRILLE

CHAPTER ELEVEN

_Avrille_

I don't think I had ever been so wet as I constantly found myself the first two weeks in October. It was an absolute miracle I didn't get sick between the numerous soggy trips back and forth to the hothouses and sitting soaking wet in the freezing dungeons for Professor Snape's classes. Normally I don't mind rain, but I had to admit I was extremely thankful for that one sunny Saturday when Professor Snape offered to let me assist him with the Wolfsbane Potion. Because the weather was so nice that day, Professor Sprout had decided to go do some shopping in Diagon Alley, leaving me the one to help Professor Snape harvest his herbs and thus get into the topic of the Wolfsbane Potion in the first place.

Now that the weekend was over, the stormy weather had returned, but I refused to let it get me down. The prospect of being alone with Professor Snape when we started the potion was enough to keep me in high spirits. I was hoping that Professor Snape's offer was a sign that he was starting to like me a little. After all, he was inviting me to help him with something that had no connection to my apprenticeship and thus held no obligation for him.

During my little bit of free time during that week, I sat in the library refreshing my memory of the Wolfsbane Potion. Professor Snape did not reference it very much in his own books, except to mention that the difficulty in brewing the Wolfsbane Potion lay not in the rarity of its ingredients or the need for advanced magical ability. So few people were able to brew it correctly because it was a potion where the utmost painstaking diligence had to be exercised in the preparation and brewing. Depending on the potion-maker's individual technique, the Wolfsbane Potion could take up to a month to brew, and not many people had the attentiveness to see it all the way through to its completion.

Finally it was Friday night, and I was already feeling nervous about being with Professor Snape the next day. Ever since the encounter in the library, I felt slightly lightheaded every time Professor Snape was around. I hadn't had an observation that day, so I spent most of my afternoon wandering around the castle. I told myself I was simply interested in the castle itself, but in truth I knew it was all because of my recent attempts at research Professor Snape's past. I, of course, knew all about his academic history but realized I knew next to nothing about him personally. I knew the school had an awards room, so I wandered over into that direction. However, a thorough inspection of all of the trophies and plaques yielded nothing with Professor Snape's name on it.

I then went to the library after supper to look at some of the old Hogwarts records. Yet I struck out there as well. Professor Snape's name was not on the lists of former prefects nor on any membership rosters of school clubs or student organizations. If I hadn't known that he _had_ attended Hogwarts, I would have thought that he had never stepped inside the building before he was hired here.

After a couple hours in the library yielded nothing, I trudged back up the marble stairs to my rooms. When I entered, I saw that everything for bed had been prepared for me as it was every night. There was a warm fire burning in the fireplace, and a pile of freshly laundered clothes sat folded on my turned-down bed. As I put away my clothes, I called for Caligula, wanting to give him a hug since I hadn't seen him all day long. After a few minutes of calling and Caligula not appearing, I started to become worried.

I combed my rooms through three times over; I looked under all of the furniture, above all of the bookcases and cabinets, even in the cupboard under the bathroom sink. Caligula was just simply nowhere to be found. A sudden panicky realization dawned on me, and I quickly dashed over to the window I had left open in the sitting room. Glancing down over the edge with my heart in my mouth, I most fortunately did not see anything on the moonlit ground three floors below me. I did, however, notice for the first time that there was a sort of ledge running along the mortar right under my window pane. Leaning out as far as I dared I saw that the ledge ran the entire length of the castle wall, and therefore beneath countless numbers of other potentially open windows. The ledge was no more than a few inches wide, but I knew that that was plenty of room for Caligula to trot across if he was feeling daring.

Pulling on my school-robes once more, I left my rooms and walked back in the direction of the main staircase. Sure enough, there was another open window just a few rooms down from mine in a little alcove that held an ancient, roped-off wooden bench. I leaned over and examined the seat and was just able to make out where a set of paw prints had smeared the dust. Wonderful. Caligula could be absolutely anywhere in the castle by now.

I had no idea where to begin looking. I knew he would be safe enough by himself, but that still didn't keep me from feeling anxious. What if he found the castle to be so exciting that he decided to never come back to my room? What if he somehow managed to slip out a door leading outside or jump out of a ground-floor window? Having no real options, I decided to just start wandering around and hope luck was on my side tonight.

It was already past ten o'clock, so the castle was totally deserted. The torches set in the walls were burning low, creating endless pockets of shadows in the corners and behind statues. I first made a stop at my office, hoping that perhaps Caligula had followed my scent there. No luck. I continued back to the main stairway and walked down to the entrance hall. The only sounds were the distant ticking of an enormous mounted clock and the quiet hum of portrait residents who were still awake. I poked my head into the Great Hall, looking rather dark and creepy in its unusual emptiness. I was just about to resign myself to spending at least an hour crawling around on the floor searching under the House tables when I heard some voices behind me.

I turned to see Fred and George Weasley creeping toward the main marble staircase, having apparently just come from the corridor facing me. They froze when they saw me turn toward them.

"It's a little late to be out walking around the school, guys," I said, going towards them. Now coming closer I could see that both Fred and George were hiding something behind their backs.

I heard George whisper to his twin, "I _knew_ we should have checked the ma-"

"-_Shut up!" _Fred hissed back.

I stopped in front of them with my arms folded. Fred looked to George and both sighed in heavy resignation as they each produced from behind their backs a precariously balanced stack of cream pies. Their identical freckled faces were crestfallen as if they knew for sure they had just earned detentions. I, however, was not going to let enforcing a silly rule take priority over the great windfall I had just received in apprehending these two gentlemen. From what I had heard from several different teachers, no one in the school, not even Mr. Filch, knew Hogwarts better than the Weasley twins.

"I'm not even going to _ask_ what you're doing with those, because I'm pretty sure I don't want to know," I said, jerking my head at the two stacks of pies. "Now, I'm sure you're both aware that you are not supposed to be out of your dormitory this late. However, I'm in a bit of a pinch here and willing to overlook whatever it is you two are doing if you can lend me a hand."

"Anything you need, Mistress Asphodel! The Brothers Weasley are at your service!" Fred declared with an attempt at a debonair bow that unfortunately left his nose covered in whipped cream. George sniggered as Fred embarrassedly wiped his nose on the shoulder of his shirt.

Forcing myself not to laugh as well, I said, "The thing is, my cat's escaped from my room. You haven't happened to see one wandering around, have you?"

George and Fred looked at each other in surprise, and I allowed myself a small gleam of hope.

"What kind of cat is it exactly?" George asked as he shuffled back and forth in an attempt to keep the swaying pies from toppling onto the floor.

"A chocolate-point Siamese."

The twins shared a grin.

"I think we know just where that cat is, Mistress Asphodel," Fred replied.

"—And Fred would be only too happy to escort you there!" George added. Fred looked aside at his brother, his face reddening. "I should probably return to Gryffindor tower and see that our… ah… cargo is safely stored." George nodded at Fred to signal that he should put his stack of pies on the ground. Shrugging, Fred obeyed then pulled out his wand.

"_Wingardium Leviosa!"_ Fred intoned, causing the pies to levitate at hip height beside his brother.

"Well, carry on then!" George called out with another meaningful look at Fred. Turning to the floating pies he said, "Come on, you," and trotted up the staircase with the other stack of pies floating obediently after him.

"Okaaay…" I muttered quietly to myself. I looked expectantly to Fred, who was scuffing a sneakered foot against the cobblestones with his hands dug deep into his pockets.

"Oh, right. Well, er… if you'll just come this way, please," Fred said and turned back toward the corridor he and George had just come from. I followed a step behind Fred, noting that this was the first time I had ever seen the two of them apart. Fred seemed somehow much smaller and quieter without his brother there.

I knew this particular corridor led to both the Hufflepuff dorms and Professor Sprout's rooms, but Fred took a sudden turn away from that direction, leading me down a flight of shallow stairs. At the bottom was another corridor, brightly lit and decorated with many portraits of various types of food.

"George and I sometimes come down here to… er… well, you know how it is…" Fred muttered, looking sheepishly at me, his hands still shoved into his pockets. We stopped in front of an enormous still-life portrait of a bowl of fruit. Fred reached up above his head and stroked one of the giant pears. It emitted a small giggle before popping out a little green doorknob.

"Um… Just in here, Mistress Asphodel," Fred said as he opened the door and held it ajar for me.

"Thanks," I said with a smile, which for some reason made Fred blush bright red, and stepped up and through the hole in the wall.

I was immediately hit with numerous smells and sounds. I couldn't see anything straight away because the entire room was filled with steam. Even though it was impossible to discern any particulars of the room more than a foot or two in front of me, the echoing of the continuous clanging and the encompassing sound of rushing water led me to believe the room was as cavernous as the Great Hall itself. The air was filled with the tart scent of dishwashing liquid. Mixed in with the soap was an older smell of cooked meat and baked bread, making me fairly sure I had been brought to Hogwarts' kitchens. Turning back, I could just make out Fred as he climbed in after me.

"Er… He should be around here somewhere," Fred yelled over the noise. "George and I saw the house-elves feeding a Siamese when we were down here a little while ago." Fred motioned for me to follow him once more as he started carefully forward. We waved our hands in front our faces trying to clear away some of the steam. Still we nearly both tripped as two house-elves appeared in front of us.

"Is you requiring more pies, young sir?" one of the elves piped up. Fred's face reddened once more.

"No, thanks. We're looking for that cat that was in here before."

"Right this way, young sir and Mistress!" the other elf squeaked. Each house-elf took a small handful of our robes and pulled us forward through the misty maze of the kitchens. I was just able to make out dozens of other house-elves through the steam, all wearing the same uniform as the two with us: crisp white togas bearing the Hogwarts coat-of-arms. Each elf we passed bowed low to us before turning back to their duties at their sinks, counters, or ovens.

"Here we is finding the kitty!" the first elf proclaimed proudly, stopping in one of the far corners where, sure enough, Caligula was gorging himself on a plate piled high with juicy roast beef left over from dinner. Caligula gave me a passing, nonchalant glance before sticking his face back into the plate. I felt another small tug on my robe. I turned and saw standing behind me a female house-elf with floppy puppy-doggish ears and enormous electric-blue eyes.

"Mistress Asphodel! I is Pinky, the house-elf in charge of your rooms, Mistress!" Pinky curtseyed so low that her knees nearly brushed the gleaming white floor.

"Oh! Nice to meet you!" I said and held out my hand to her, bending over slightly to be more at her eye level.

Pinky stared at my offered hand, then glanced at the two elves who had brought us in. They both nodded their heads eagerly, so Pinky placed her tiny hind in mine so I could gently shake it. When I let go, Pinky stared at her hand in awe, a small smile on her face.

"Thank you so much for everything you do! My rooms are always so well cleaned," I said, hoping this was the sort of thing one said to a house-elf. This was my first real meeting with one since we didn't have a house-elf at home, and I never saw one at either of my schools.

"Mistress Asphodel is too kind with her words!" Pinky declared. "Pinky is honoured to serve!"

Suddenly Pinky dropped her gaze to her bare feet. "Pinky is sorry that she is not returning the kitty right away. Pinky thought that the kitty might like some food first. We is not often getting kitties in the kitchen, Mistress."

"No, please! Thank you for taking care of him! I didn't think I'd be able to find him again so easily, but now that I think about it, this was the first place that he would have gone to." I turned to Fred who had been watching our exchange with interest. "Thanks, too, Fred. Even though it seems Pinky was going to bring Caligula back it was great of you to lead me to him."

Fred's scrunched his face in confusion.

"Caligula?" he asked.

"That's my cat's name."

"Wasn't Caligula… like… a crazy Muggle king or something?"

"Uh… sort of…" I replied with an embarrassed smile. My mom was right; I should have just named him Fluffy or Mittens.

"Anyway," I said as I scooped up Caligula, who growled fiercely at the removal of his face from his food, "we should both be getting to bed. Thanks so much again, Pinky. Shall we go, Fred?"

Pinky curtseyed low once more as the two other house-elves quickly scurried to clean up the half-eaten plate of roast beef. Giving Pinky another smile, and scruffing Caligula to keep him from vaulting over my shoulders to get back to the meat, I followed Fred back through the noisy, slippery path to the portrait hole.

The air outside seemed freezing cold after the hot, muggy kitchens. The sudden silence also made my ears, still ringing from the clamour, feel like they were full of cotton balls. Caligula turned his face away from me peevishly and licked his nose which was still pink from the roast beef juices.

"Have any fun plans for the weekend?" I asked Fred as we climbed the stairs back up to the ground floor corridor.

"Nah, just Quidditch practice… Not that that's not fun, of course. It's just Wood's gone completely mental since we have the match against Slytherin in a few weeks." Fred rolled his eyes, making me laugh.

"Yeah, I've seen Slytherin practicing from my window. They seem really fast."

Fred huffed angrily. "They're fast, alright. Draco Malfoy's father bought the whole team Nimbus Two Thousand and Ones. Bloody rich git," Fred muttered, then looked to me in mortification.

"I didn't mean to say that out loud!" he gasped.

"I'll just pretend I didn't hear," I said with a good-natured smile. Fred relaxed visibly.

"It just not on that a team could take a gift like that…" Fred continued.

"Well, I'm sure Professor Snape wouldn't have let Mr. Malfoy give the team the brooms unless it was allowed. It's pretty unfair, but I guess it's just bad luck that Draco wasn't in Gryffindor instead."

Fred made a face. "Forget that! I'd much rather have Potter as our Seeker than Malfoy with a pile Two Thousand and Ones any day!"

"Well there you are," I replied with a grin.

Fred shrugged. "Anyway, thanks a lot, Mistress Asphodel, for not giving me and George detention. We wouldn't have been so lucky if it had been Professor Snape who'd lost a cat." As he said this, an image of Professor Snape in the Great Hall on his hands and knees looking under tables flashed into my mind. I burst out laughing, startling Caligula who had been enjoying his ride with his head on my shoulder. Fred looked to me in confusion, but I just shook my head against Caligula's fur, unable to stop giggling.

"Uh oh…" I heard Fred whisper. I calmed myself and looked up to see that we were back in the entrance hall. As though summoned by our talk, Professor Snape himself had just emerged from the dungeon stairwell.

"What are you doing out of bed, Mr. Weasley?" Professor Snape asked sharply as he strode toward us. Fred's face, which had been slightly pink this entire time, blanched white, and he looked at the stone floor with his hands shoved in his pockets once more.

"He was just helping me find my cat. Thanks again for your help, Fred. Off to bed now," I said to him with a meaningful look. Fred nodded quickly and shot off up the stairs before Professor Snape could ask him why he had been out of his dormitory for me to ask for his assistance in the first place.

Professor Snape seemed about to yell something after Fred, so I quickly said, "It's all my fault. I left one of the windows open in my room, and Caligula managed to climb out."

"…Caligula?" Professor Snape asked in the same confused tone as Fred had before. Here we go again… Oh well, at least it distracted Professor Snape from Fred's escape.

"Yeah, I know it's weird. I'd been reading about ancient Roman history in my Muggle Studies book that day."

"I see."

At the mention of his name, Caligula had perked up his ears and was now studying Professor Snape with acute professional interest. He gave me a look that clearly stated, "_So _this_ is the male you always leave me to go see…_" He was struggling against my grasp to turn his body around so he could sniff Professor Snape better. Professor Snape meanwhile was eyeing Caligula with just as much interest, the slightest ghost of a smile on his face.

"You can pet him, if you want," I offered hesitantly. Professor Snape met my eyes for a moment then reached his hand slowly forward to scratch Caligula between his ears. Caligula sniffed his hand briefly then allowed himself to dissolve into a floppy, purring bundle of contentment.

"I used to have a cat…" Professor Snape mused quietly. "A long time ago…" For the briefest instant, I thought I saw a flash of pain in Professor Snape's eyes, but when he blinked it had vanished. He removed his hand and took a step back. Caligula glared at him and yowled reproachfully at the withdrawal of attention.

Professor Snape cleared his throat. "He's very handsome," he commented, which was ironic because that's the exact same thing I was thinking about _him_ at the moment. There was just something about the flickering torchlight in the hall that made Professor Snape look even more striking than usual.

"And he certainly knows it," I replied, rearranging Caligula so his head was resting on my shoulder once more. One thing was for sure: Caligula had _not_ needed that extra meal in the kitchens, and my aching arms were a testament to the fact.

"I was on my way to put this in your box." Professor Snape held up a piece of folded parchment in his other hand. "But since I found you instead…" He Vanished it with a twist of his wrist. "I just wanted to inform you that I have everything prepared, and I would like to commence work on the Wolfsbane Potion tomorrow afternoon, if that is convenient for you."

"Yes, that would be great!" I said excitedly. I was really looking forward to starting work on the potion, and even more so to having personal instruction from Professor Snape himself.

"If you could come down to my office around one..."

"Sure," I replied, batting Caligula with slight annoyance as he was chewing on my hair. "I'll be down straight after lunch"

"Till tomorrow then," Professor Snape said with a slight nod of his head, now with a faint but definite smile on his lips. "Good night." He turned and walked back toward the dungeon staircase.

"Thank you! Good night!" I called after him, my heart thumping from the treat of seeing him smile for the second time. Once he was out of sight, I shifted Caligula around so I could look him straight in the eyes.

"I'm locking the windows from now on," I told him, nose to nose.

The next day, as if to take revenge on me for removing any future castle-wandering prospects, Caligula threw up magnificently all over the carpet by the fireplace just as I was about to go down to Professor Snape's office. Running at him while yelling and waving my arms had not been enough to get him to hurl onto the hearthstones instead, so I had to waste several minutes on my hands and knees scrubbing cat-sick. Now that I had actually met Pinky and knew how hard she must work to keep my rooms looking so wonderful, I felt incredibly guilty just leaving the mess behind for her to clean.

At two minutes before one o'clock, I threw the last vomit-damp towel into the laundry chute and ran at breakneck speed down the ninety-seven stairs leading from my rooms to Professor Snape's office. Students stared at me as I tore past them, but I didn't care because there was no way I was going to be late when Professor Snape was doing me such a favour by letting me assist him. I skidded to a halt in front of his office door and made myself take a few forced deep breaths as I dug at a stitch in my side. Even after I could breathe normally once more, my pulse continued to race. Professor Snape and I had never spent any significant time alone together, and I felt half-ready to puke just like Caligula. Oh God, what if I made a mistake and totally ruined the Wolfsbane Potion? Professor Snape would never trust me again!

I shook my head fiercely to drive all self-doubting thoughts away. I knew that I was excellent potion-brewer and had nothing to worry about. Though I had never actually made one, I had studied the theory of the Wolfsbane Potion extensively. Also-this thought making me glow a bit on the inside-Professor Snape would never have asked me to help unless he was confident that I wouldn't screw the whole thing up. Forcing down a few more deep breaths of chilly dungeon air, I gave myself a little shake to dispel the nerves and knocked on the door.

"Come in," I heard Professor Snape call. I opened the door and stepped into the office. Professor Snape had been standing at his desk flipping through some papers and glanced up when I entered. His long, black hair was tied back in a simple tail, and his sleeves were rolled up, revealing his forearms. I felt my ears turn pink as I looked at him.

"Mistress Asphodel. Right on time." His eyes flitted to the clock which had just sounded one chime. "If you would follow me, please," he said, grabbing his work-robes from a chair, and he strode out through the door I held open for him. I closed it behind us, and Professor Snape locked it with a flick of his wand back over his shoulder. I followed him down the hallway past the classrooms until he stopped in front of a room I had never entered before. He waved his wand once more to unlock this door as he pulled out a key from his robes' pocket with his other hand.

"This is for you," he said, handing the key to me. "We will be brewing the potion in here. Since it is so valuable, the door is to be locked at all times." I took the key solemnly and placed it in a secure zippered pouch in my shoulder bag.

"After you," Professor Snape said, opening the door and standing aside to allow me to enter first.

As I stepped through, a set of torches flared to life illuminating a medium-sized room that smelled musty and unused. Old cobwebs hung in corners, blowing like ghostly hair in one of the ever-present frosty draughts. There were several ancient-looking oak tables on which Professor Snape had set up all of the tools we would be using. Professor Snape walked past me to the nearest table where the herbs I had given him last weekend were laid out on squares of white linen. I followed him to the table, depositing my bag under it, and stood ready for instruction.

Professor Snape looked up from the dried Aconite he had been appraising to gesture at my hair and ask, "Could you tie it back, please? A single hair could potentially contaminate the potion." That explained why his hair was pulled back as well, something he never did, which was a shame because he looked even more handsome as he was now.

"Oh, of course," I said and knelt down next to my bag, biting my lip. I had meant to put my hair up before leaving the room, but Caligula's mess had distracted me. After digging around slightly in the shadows, I managed to locate a hair elastic. I wound my hair up into a secure knot then stood back up. Professor Snape was pulling on a pair of dragon-hide protective gloves, so I followed suit.

"These herbs," he said, "were soaked for twelve hours in an arnica oil-in-holy water emulsion and have been drying over the week. If you'll look here," he said, picking up a dried sprig of Aconite between gloved fingers, "you can see the leaves are dried to the point that they make a clean break yet are not so fragile that they crumble."

Though there were several torches lit, the room was still rather dim. This gave me a good excuse to move closer to Professor Snape than I normally would have to see better. He held up a leaf, cleanly broken in two, to which I nodded.

"Now," Professor Snape said, moving to a second table, "here I have set out saffron water, rose water, and simple distilled water." He placed a hand on the cork of each corresponding glass jug in turn. "And, as you can see, there are four cauldrons, one for each herbal infusion we will be setting to brew today. But first, we should put on these." Professor Snape conjured two white facial masks for us. I took one from him and tied it behind my head, completely covering my mouth and nose.

"Since the Aconite is obviously the key ingredient to this potion, it requires the most care," Professor Snape continued, his voice the slightest bit muffled by the mask. "The leaves first need to be removed with a silver dagger, then quartered, crushed, and finally smouldered in a crucible. Would you like to begin?" he asked, holding out to me a silver dagger, hilt first.

"Alright," I replied hesitantly, taking the dagger carefully from him. I wasn't sure how comfortable I was being given the contingent herb to start off with.

Professor Snape must have sensed my hesitation for he added, "Don't worry, I'll watch you," in a soft, encouraging tone of voice I had never heard him use before. Smiling a little to myself behind my mask, I fetched the Aconite from the other table.

Under Professor Snape's expert eye, I sheared all of the leaves from the stems, then lay them flat on a bamboo cutting board. With the utmost care, I sliced each leaf into four parts then placed them into a mortar. With the pestle, I ground the leaves into a fine dust while Professor Snape set a crucible over a lit burner on the other side of the room. When I was done, he took the powder from me.

"You need to be extremely careful," he said as he cautiously poured the poisonous dust into the crucible, "because though the mask prevents the smoke from being inhaled, it can still severely damage your eyes and potentially cause blindness."

Once the Aconite was set, Professor Snape returned to the table. Into one of the small cauldrons he poured even parts rose water and saffron water. Into the second cauldron he poured only rose water and only saffron water into the third. Into the fourth cauldron he measured in a few tablespoons of distilled water. He then set me to separating the flowers from the leaves of the Sol Terrestis while he ground up the Lady's Foxglove and a few drops of rose water into a sticky paste. Professor Snape then added the Sol Terrestis flowers to the paste and further ground it. The Sol Terrestis leaves were placed in the saffron water filled cauldron to simmer.

"How long does this potion usually take you?" I asked as I shredded Yellow Avens leaves and dropped them into the rose water cauldron.

"Usually three and a half weeks," Professor Snape replied from the corner where he was checking on the Aconite. He removed the crucible from the heat to allow it to cool. "We will have to repeat most of these steps on Wednesday and next Saturday with freshly cut herbs to create a concentrate which has to ferment over two weeks. The final ingredients are then added and kept at a simmer overnight, after which the potion is chilled. When it is finally allowed to return to room temperature on the last day, it is ready for consumption."

My tasks for the moment being completed, I sat back on a stool and watched Professor Snape as he examined the burned Aconite, one of his fingers pulling down his face mask so he could see better. Even though I knew that he was exceedingly skilled in handling the poison, I still felt nervous watching him with his unmasked face so close to it as he checked for even blackening. One careless sniff and he would probably be killed. I breathed a small sigh of relief as he finally nodded in satisfaction and dumped the charred bits into the fourth cauldron containing the plain water. With a long silver spoon, he stirred the mixture, occasionally adding a few more sprinkles of water until he was satisfied with the consistency.

More than once I had to force myself to concentrate on what Professor Snape was specifically _doing_ because far too often I found myself watching _him _instead. I loved the way he squinted his storm-grey eyes when he was really concentrating on something. I was mesmerized by the way the torchlight made his hair shine like black fire. I could have easily spent the entire afternoon just watching the graceful way he moved his fingers as he was sorting through the herbs.

Finally an hour or so later, we were done for the day. All four cauldrons were steeping their respective contents.

"I will find you Wednesday after classes have concluded so we can continue," Professor Snape said as he locked the door behind us with his wand. We started to walk back up the corridor to his office.

"Yes, please do," I replied as I pulled the tie out of my hair to let it fall back down. I had done it up so tightly that my scalp was aching, sending sharp little pains up from each follicle. I scratched at my head to try and dispel the tingling, then noticed Professor Snape was staring at me.

"It hurts if I leave it up to long," I explained, thinking that must have been why he had a strange expression on his face. He started a little.

"Yes, it does, doesn't it?" he remarked simply, pulling the tie out of his own hair as we reached the office door. "I have some marking to do, so you'll forgive me if I go ahead."

"Would you like any help? I mean, if you think I'm ready… I wouldn't want to presume…"

Professor Snape stopped my rambling with an upraised hand.

"Thank you, but you have helped me enough for one day. There isn't much to be corrected, though perhaps another time…" he trailed off, managing with few words to convey that he did believe me ready, but simply did not need the help. My heart swelled with pride at knowing that already so soon in my apprenticeship he was starting to trust me enough to let me handle some of the students' work. Maybe I had impressed him just now with the Wolfsbane Potion, and I secretly thanked the stars that I had made myself review that potion over and over again last night.

"Alright, well, I guess I'll see you in class Monday then. I'll be in with the sixth year N.E.W.T.s," I said, running a hand through my hair one more time.

"Yes, and thank you again for your help today," Professor Snape said. I wanted to thank _him_ again for letting me assist, but thinking we might end up in a never-ending exchange of thank-yous, I gave a shy smile and hurried past him and up the dungeon steps. I was so happy that I had to physically cover my beaming smile with my hand so that I didn't look like I had been hit with a well-executed Cheering Charm. Things were really starting to look up. Professor Snape seemed to be starting to like me just a little.

That week, as he had stipulated, I assisted Professor Snape twice more with the Wolfsbane Potion. These two sessions only lasted about half as long since we only needed to boil fresh herbs, which I had cut for us, and add the strained liquid to the original four cauldrons. We didn't talk much when we were alone in the dungeon; I was too shy and Professor Snape probably too focused on the work. While we worked in silence, I kept repeating over and over in my mind that Professor Snape was my _supervisor,_ and it was wrong of me to be taking so much pleasure in staring at his revealed jaw-line and neck beneath his pulled-back hair.

In a weird way, I was glad when that week was over because it really threw my emotions off seeing him like that, that is as a working man as opposed to a stoic professor. The next week we went back to our normal schedule of only seeing each other during my observations or briefly during meals, neither at which we talked at all.

Finally it was Halloween and the conclusion of my second full month at Hogwarts. I was deeply glad that I still had eight months to go since I was enjoying myself at Hogwarts more than I ever had at my own two schools. Here I was, more or less, a teacher and could move through the corridors with a kind of superior sense of purpose that one didn't have when as a student. Lavinia Sinistra and I were quickly becoming fast friends. Though, I felt bad thinking it, she didn't have the brilliant intellect of Professor Snape, she was an absolute blast to gossip with.

We sat next to each other at the Halloween feast, talking merrily as we split a small jug of hard apple cider. The Great Hall looked even more spectacular than it had during the welcoming feast with Hagrid's giant pumpkins carved into enormous jack-o-lanterns flanking the staff table. I was at first a bit squeamish when I saw all of the live bats hanging from the rafters, but Lavinia assured me that they very rarely flew into anyone's hair. The food had been amazing, though the desserts were almost too numerous and sweet for even me. Once or twice I looked down the table to where Professor Snape sat at Professor Dumbledore's left hand, hoping that he was enjoying himself a little.

Because I drank a bit more than I probably should have, I started to feel drowsy half-way through the desserts course. Laughingly brushing aside Lavinia's pleas to stay with her in case Lockhart came over and tried to tell her about the time he had deflowered a veela or something, I left the Great Hall before the other teachers and walked up the back stairs to my rooms. Once there, I took a luxuriously long bubble bath then headed straight to bed without an inkling of the strange occurrences that had taken place probably as I was staring at my bubbly, wrinkled toes.


	12. Chapter Twelve: SEVERUS

CHAPTER TWELVE

_Severus_

That Halloween turned out to be one of the more memorable I had experienced at Hogwarts, even eclipsing the one four years prior when a slightly inebriated Hagrid had tipped his chair back too far and smashed all of his carved pumpkins. Dumbledore and I had had to act very quickly with the Aguamenti Charm to douse the pumpkins' candles before Hagrid's beard caught fire. But this Halloween… I could never have anticipated something like this happening. The fact that Dumbledore had not been able to reanimate Filch's cat had unnerved all of us staff members, though very few of us would have admitted it out loud.

After leaving Lockhart's nauseating office, I had asked Minerva for her take on the matter. She replied, rather stiffly, that it was probably a practical joke in very poor taste and coolly suggested I investigate which members of my own House were not at the Halloween feast. She was obviously still peevish over my suggestion that Potter be banned from playing Quidditch. Well, what had she expected? It had been worth a try.

I had asked Avrille the previous afternoon if she would mind correcting some of the first years' assignments. I was already accumulating a slight backlog of homework, and having to attend the Halloween feast and then the business with Filch's cat afterwards ended up leaving me with even less time for marking than usual for a weekend. Normally I would have not set an apprentice at marking so early in the term, but Avrille had shown that she had vast more intellect than the average apprentice. Avrille cheerfully agreed to help me, so after a late breakfast the next morning, she followed me down to my office.

Once inside, I moved the chair that normally stood in front of my desk to beside me so Avrille would have a good surface to write on. It would also make it easier for me to review her corrections. Fine, I just wanted her to sit next to me.

"All of these?" she asked with a slight edge of disbelief as I placed a tall stack of papers on the desk in front of her.

"Yes, unfortunately," I replied. "The past few days I have been busy grading the N.E.W.T. students' mid-term projects so they will have their most recent marks to begin their applications to graduate school. The first years have therefore been a low priority."

"I see… I'm glad I can help you, then," Avrille said as she divided the homework into several more manageable stacks. "At breakfast, Lavinia mentioned something to me about Mr Filch's cat being attacked. What was that about?" Avrille asked curiously as she dipped her quill into the bottle of red ink I had provided.

"Yes, it happened during the feast apparently," I replied and told her everything that had happened from the moment we found Potter and his friends suspiciously at the scene of the attack to the conference in Lockhart's office. For some reason I found myself omitting that I had been the one to accuse Potter of attacking Mrs Norris. Somehow I felt divulging that would make Avrille think less of me.

Avrille shook her head and laughed as she drew a line under a sentence fragment in the essay in front of her. "Harry? Attack Mrs Norris? Now _that's_ probably the most unlikely thing I've ever heard…" she said, and I shifted uncomfortably in my chair, very glad that I had not given all of the details of the meeting.

"Besides, I thought he, Hermione, and Ron Weasley were at that deathday party down here in the dungeons you told me Sir Nicholas would be having?"

"Yes, they were, but it was still suspect their being in that corridor at all. It does not lead from the dungeons to their common room and obviously not to the Great Hall," I replied, trying to argue my original observation, though now thinking my words sounded slightly desperate.

"Isn't there a ladies' room right in that corridor?" Avrille mused as she gave the paper she had been reading a nine out of ten. "Maybe Hermione just had to go to the bathroom really bad…"

"Yes, well, perhaps," I conceded.

"And not to mention that none of those kids would be able to curse Mrs. Norris like that… Maybe if they were graduate students at a school that specialised in the Dark Arts, but as second years?" Though Avrille was just arriving at the same conclusions Minerva and Dumbledore had reached, coming from her lips the words made me feel like a fool for my previous thoughts. It was arguable that if it had been three Slytherin students found in that corridor last night, I wouldn't have suspected them at all, even though the message about "Slytherin's Heir" would have made them much more probable culprits.

Avrille shrugged her shoulders and starting marking up another paper. "Anyway, I'm sure the whole thing isn't much to worry about. Mrs Norris will be all better when the mandrakes are harvested, so whoever did it really didn't cause any lasting harm."

I made a non-committal noise in reply. Since Avrille was not from Hogwarts, it was highly unlikely she had ever heard of The Chamber of Secrets before. When I had been a first year, Lucius Malfoy and several of the other older boys had tried to scare us with the legend, telling us that if we weren't really pure-bloods, the monster of Slytherin would eat us. Perhaps last night's events were just some of the same sort of hazing. With a grudging resignation, I decided to take Minerva's advice and discreetly look into any Slytherin students who might have thought it amusing to reawaken the old tale.

I was just writing a few comments on Miles Bletchley's essay when Avrille laughed quietly.

"What?" I asked, looking over at her. She looked back at me surprised, as though she hadn't realised she had laughed out loud.

"Oh… nothing… It's really horrible. I shouldn't even have thought it."

"No, you see, now you _have_ to tell me," I replied seriously. When Avrille stared at me, slightly confused, I cracked a small smile so that she would know I had been joking.

"Well, like I said, it's horrible, but I was just thinking Caligula would probably be happy if he knew Mrs Norris had been petrified."

"And why is that?"

"Because he believes that _he's_ the only cat who's allowed to scratch me," Avrille replied, pulling up a sleeve of her robe to reveal a set of long, painful-looking slashes on her arm above her wrist. "I tried to pet Mrs Norris the other day, and she took a piece out of me," Avrille explained.

I stared at her bare arm, angry that Filch's mangy feline had dared mar that beautiful appendage. I also felt a small prickling of discomfort since the scratches were on her left forearm, reminding me sickeningly of something else entirely.

Wanting to remove the offending set of marks if possible, I said, "I could heal that for you."

"Really?" Avrille asked, looking down at her arm in interest. "I hadn't really thought it necessary."

"It would only take a moment and would guarantee no scar forms."

"Sure then, if you don't mind," Avrille replied and held her arm out to me.

Still not quite believing that I had dared to make the suggestion in the first place, I took her soft hand in mine to keep her arm steady as I withdrew my wand. Concentrating mentally on the healing spell, I drew my wand slowly over each scratch until nothing but smoothly perfect skin remained. Then, quite unwillingly, I let go of her hand and stashed my wand back in my robes. My palm still tingled a bit where I had touched her.

"Thanks!" Avrille proclaimed, examining her arm up close. "I wish I knew how to do that…" Then without further word, she turned back to her marking.

After that, we worked in silence for over an hour. I was greatly appreciative of Avrille, for with her added help we were steadily making progress through the slowly shrinking piles of papers. We stopped at lunchtime, and I thanked Avrille for the assistance, telling her I could manage the rest of the day on my own. Avrille left me behind in my office with one last smile, and after she closed the door behind her, I collapsed back at my desk, exhausted from the sheer effort it had taken to remain cool and composed in her close company.

The following week, the school was charged with the palpable energy that always preceded a Quidditch match. That it was the first match of the season and Harry Potter would be flying in it only made the excitement more paramount. It seemed I had not been the only one to think Potter's presence at the scene following the Halloween feast suspicious. Now whenever he entered a room the whispers of the other students increased ten-fold.

I myself tried to put the boy out of my mind and concentrate on more important matters such as the Wolfsbane Potion and the fact that Lucius Malfoy would be attending Saturday's match to see for himself the generous gifts he had bestowed upon my Quidditch team. I was also just the smallest bit apprehensive since Avrille had mentioned she would be attending the match. I was desirous of keeping Avrille and Lucius apart since he had expressed such an interest in her after their first meeting. This, however, seemed to be a bleakly fated wish since Lucius and Avrille were both bound to be sitting in the teachers' section of the pitch stands.

The day before the Quidditch match happened to be Avrille's first assessment with me. Although I had already, I hoped, let Avrille know through various ways that she was progressing extremely well in her apprenticeship, it was still required protocol for her and I to meet half-way through the term for a formal evaluation. I set the time for the meeting during my free period directly following lunch since Avrille did not have a Herbology observation during that time slot. I ended up skipping lunch to catch up on some paperwork and became so engrossed in it that I started when Avrille knocked on the door at one o'clock.

"Come in," I called as I swept the paperwork into one of the desk drawers.

Avrille entered and greeted me, then took a seat in front of my desk. As she leaned over to place her bag at her feet, her long hair, gathered into a thick plait, swung forward over her shoulder. With an exasperated sigh, she flung it back behind her as she righted herself.

"Now, Mistress Asphodel," I began. "As I mentioned to you yesterday, this meeting is only a formality required by the Ministry's Board of Education. If I had had any qualms over your performance in my half of your apprenticeships, I would have certainly addressed them to you before now."

"Good," Avrille said with a smile. "I was hoping that was the case."

I returned her smile with a small one of my own. "Is there anything in particular that you would like to discuss regarding your apprenticeship so far?"

Avrille shook her head. "Nothing that I can think of…"

"Are you finding the double workload manageable?"

"Yes, absolutely," Avrille replied. "I'm actually really glad I decided to go for the dual apprenticeship since I'll get to spend the whole year here at Hogwarts instead of the normal six months."

"And after the apprenticeship? Have you given thought to your future prospects once it concludes?" I was most desirous of knowing this. Since I knew I would not be leaving the school anytime soon and Pomona was, unfortunately for Avrille and myself, unlikely to retire so early, there would be no empty spot for Avrille to fill in the staffing the following year.

"I don't have any definite plans yet," Avrille said, "Though Dean Proctor informed me there was a possibility of a position opening up at The Salem Witches' Institute in a year or two. Until then, I suppose I would just return home and continue with private research."

That was not an answer I was happy with. Over the past few weeks, I had come to the firm conclusion that I simply would not be able to go back to how things were before I had met Avrille. Even if I had to settle for being a work-related acquaintance, I could not let her leave my life forever. Hoping it was a natural thing to ask, I suggested, "Have you considered remaining in Britain? Though there may not be a position at Hogwarts for you in the near future, there is always the possibility of a career in private instruction."

"To be honest, I haven't really even looked into it. Is that a job in high demand?"

"Very much so," I said. "There are families throughout the country who have children with conditions which, for one reason or another, prevent them from attending Hogwarts. There are also always parents seeking summer tutors for children who failed their O.W.L.s or N.E.W.T.s. The pay for a private tutor with a Master Professor's Degree can sometimes be three times more than that of a professor at Hogwarts and with much shorter and more flexible hours." My God, I sounded like a used-cauldron salesman.

"I myself was a private tutor for a time after graduate school," I concluded.

"Really?" Avrille asked. "Before you came here? I didn't know that."

"Yes, for a period of a few months." What I did _not_ tell Avrille was that I had tutored the children of various Death Eaters in the Dark Arts. It had been Dumbledore's idea as a way to earn the trust of the parents and hopefully improve my standing among the Death Eaters, making me then privy to more secret information.

"Well, that's definitely something I'll look in to." Avrille said. "I do love it here in England, and it would be wonderful to be able to stay here." My hopes rose at these words. If Avrille did decide to remain in the country, then it was likely we would run into each other from time to time.

"Do you have any questions about anything else?" I asked.

"No, not as long as I'm meeting your expectations…" Avrille said hesitantly.

"Yes, you are. As I said before, you would have known by now if you were not." As I said this, I noticed that Avrille's posture relaxed slightly as though she had been nervous before.

"On a different note, I will be adding the final ingredients to the Wolfsbane Potion on Sunday afternoon," I said. "If you wish to assist in this final step, I'll be in the workroom at three."

"Absolutely," Avrille replied with a decisive nod. "I'll be there."

I glanced up at the clock. I had to go prepare for class soon. The meeting had not been long, but I could truthfully report that it had taken place.

"That's all I have to say. You may go now," I said.

"Thank you." Avrille rose and fetched her bag from under the chair. As she opened the office door, she turned back to me and said, "Good luck with the Quidditch game tomorrow. I'll be cheering for you!" Then, with one more gorgeous smile, she left.

Saturday morning dawned with dubious weather. The sky in the Great Hall was dark with thick clouds that rumbled slightly as we all ate breakfast. From what I could see from the staff table, the Slytherin team seemed to be in high spirits in contrast to the Gryffindor team who sat together sullen and silent. The majority of the students seemed to be too excited to eat, and most of the warm breakfast spread went untouched. Finally, at eleven o'clock, I offered Minerva a conciliatory good-luck handshake, which she accepted with her lips pursed into a thin line. I thought Minerva's continuing indignation over Lucius' gift to be rather rich since she herself had petitioned Dumbledore last year for a brand new racing broom for Potter using school funds.

Though it was not actually raining outside, the air was humid. At least a shrill wind off of the lake kept it from being oppressive. At the entrance to the Quidditch stands, I found Lucius waiting for me, as usual dressed to show off his wealth to the finest degree. We climbed the stands together and found seats in the teachers' section beneath where Dumbledore sat. Gilderoy Lockhart was stationed right beside the headmaster and was going so far as to rest his arm on Dumbledore's chair with the airs of a trusted councillor advising a king.

Lucius took in the sight with a raised eyebrow. "Quite an interesting choice of Dumbledore's for the new Defence teacher," he mused as we took our seats.

"Quite," I replied icily.

Over the murmuring buzz of the crowd a quiet tapping could be heard as large raindrops beat a slow staccato on the canvas awning protecting the teachers' seats from the elements. However, it soon stopped as though the weather couldn't make up its mind on how to behave. In the distance a deep rumble of thunder rolled. My eyes sweeping over the crowd in front of me, I soon picked out Avrille sitting a few rows below us with Lavinia, who was waving a Gryffindor flag. Suddenly, cheers erupted from the crowd as the two teams emerged from their locker rooms.

"Why, Severus," Lucius said as he clapped lightly for the Slytherin team's appearance, "I do believe I see that charming little apprentice of yours. Avrille, isn't it?"

"Yes," I replied curtly. Glancing out the corner of my eye, I saw Lucius had his gaze fixed on Avrille as he continued to clap distractedly. He did not even notice Draco, who had given his father a small wave as he flew by the stands.

"I hope Narcissa is well," I said pointedly, now openly glaring at Lucius with my arms crossed as he leaned forward slightly to see Avrille better.

"Quite well, thank you," Lucius replied offhandedly.

"I would have thought her to be here to see Draco's first match."

Lucius shrugged and sat back against his chair, turning to me slightly. "Her mother became suddenly ill last night. Narcissa went to St. Mungo's to visit her."

"I'm sorry to hear that. I wish Mrs Black a quick recovery."

Lucius waved my comment away with a flick of his suede-gloved hand. "Yes, well, she is getting on in years."

The faint shriek of Rolanda Hooch's whistle sounded across the Quidditch pitch, bringing our attention back to the match as all fourteen players shot into the air. The power of the Slytherin team was immediately apparent, the players streaking by the stands so quickly it was nearly impossible to tell each player apart. Lee Jordan, the Gryffindor commentator, seemed to be having the same difficulty and was unable to tell exactly which Slytherin Chaser scored the first goal. Draco was only distinguishable by his position circling high over the pitch.

I was happy that now the match was underway, Lucius' attention was solidly on his son with thoughts of Avrille pushed firmly aside. I, having only an interest in the final outcome and concerned very little with the process as long as Slytherin won, allowed my gaze to wander over Avrille as often as I dared. The chill wind had suddenly begun to gust more fiercely, sending Avrille's hair flying around her. After a few unsuccessful attempts to gather it together, she managed to stuff it down the back of her coat.

I had been so occupied with watching Avrille that I hadn't noticed anything strange occurring in the match until I heard another sound of Rolanda's whistle and looked back to see the Gryffindor team huddled together near the ground. The rain began falling now in earnest, drumming on the canvas roof and on the countless umbrellas students were quickly opening. After a moment of discussion, the Gryffindor team was back in the air, and I was finally able to see what had caused the timeout.

One of the bludgers was disregarding its normal function of bombarding every player in the air and was trailing after Potter with murderous intent. I suddenly found myself reminded of the first Quidditch match of the previous year when Potter's broomstick had been cursed by Quirrell. I had almost exhausted myself trying to counter the curse, not understanding at the time it was the power of the Dark Lord himself I fought against. However, the Dark Lord's spirit had fled after Quirrell's death. It was highly unlikely this bludger was acting so strangely because of him.

I quickly scanned the crowd around me, but if someone was charming the bludger, they were doing it imperceptibly. Lucius had a smirk on his face, but his eyes were on his own son. I turned back to glace at Dumbledore. His eyebrows were knit in concern, but he did not seem worried enough to stop the match. Since there seemed to no visible signs of wrongdoing from anyone near me, I sat back and tried to catch the score from Jordan's commentary, almost indiscernible in the roar of the heavy rain above me.

Just then a collective gasp rose from the crowd. Potter was shooting directly at Draco, one arm hanging limply at side and flailing grotesquely from the speed of his passing. Draco swerved away at the last moment. Potter dived at the ground, then crashed into the mud. Everyone was craning forward in their seats to see what had happened, but it became instantly apparent when Rolanda gave three short trills on her whistle. Potter had managed to catch the Snitch. I sat back in my seat, furious. I looked to Lucius, who was sitting almost calmly, the rigid set of his jaw the only outward sign of his disappointment in his son.

The match over, we both rose to leave. Lucius did not speak to me and did not acknowledge anyone who called to him. Squinting through the rain, I could just make out Potter surrounded by his team-mates. He was still prostrate on the ground, presumably unconscious. I saw the back of Draco's blonde head disappearing into the Slytherin locker room alone.

As we exited the stands, both Lucius and I Conjured umbrellas. I was about to ask Lucius a question when he unexpectedly increased his pace and broke away from me. I followed quickly behind, suddenly uneasy. Just as I feared, he slowed down as he approached Avrille, who was sharing an umbrella with Lavinia as they walked toward the castle. I caught up with him just as he reached the pair. Lavinia noticed him first and poked Avrille on the shoulder. Avrille turned to him with a smile on her face, sending a dagger of jealousy through me.

"Good afternoon, Mr Malfoy," Avrille said politely. She smiled at me as well, but Lucius interrupted her before she could greet me too.

"Please, we needn't be so formal," he said silkily. "Call me Lucius." Annoyance surged through me. Of course Lucius was not so dependent on formality as I was where Avrille was concerned.

Lucius managed to subtlety push Lavinia's umbrella away so that Avrille was suddenly sharing his. Lavinia shot Lucius a dirty look which he ignored. She slowed her steps slightly so she was walking beside me, clearly as interested in hearing the conversation as I was.

"Ah! I see you were supporting Slytherin today," Lucius remarked to Avrille, pointing at the green and silver rosette pinned to the front of her jacket.

"Yes, I thought I should, being Professor Snape's apprentice. I hope you understand that I will have to give equal support to Hufflepuff for Professor Sprout as well," Avrille replied with a charming smile.

"What a conundrum, then, when Slytherin and Hufflepuff play each other…" Lucius mused. "You know, several of the other school governors and I are planning on gathering later in Hogsmeade for a drink, nothing formal. If you have no plans tonight, Avrille, I would be honoured if you would join us. We would all be quite interested in hearing your opinions of the school."

Avrille hesitated for a moment. I wanted to shout at her to refuse. Even if _all_ eleven other governors were there, I did not trust Lucius. However, there was no way that propriety would allow me to convey my concerns to Avrille, which was precisely what I expected Lucius had counted on.

"That would be nice," Avrille finally replied. "I could walk down after supper. Where and when are you planning on meeting?"

"Please, I will not hear of you walking down in the rain on our behalf. Allow me to send my carriage to collect you at the school at seven this evening."

"I… I mean… that would be a lot of trouble for you," Avrille replied hesitantly.

"No trouble at all," Lucius insisted. "It would be my pleasure."

Avrille shrugged. "All right then, thank you very much, Mr Malfoy…" Lucius rose an eyebrow at her. "I mean, Lucius."

At this, Lavinia glanced at me with worry on her face. I gave her a pointed look and jerked my head in Avrille's direction, hoping to convey silently for her to speak to Avrille about Lucius before she went down to Hogsmeade tonight. Lavinia nodded and picked up her pace so she was beside Avrille again.

"I'm starving. Let's hurry up before the rain gets any worse," Lavinia said, taking Avrille by the arm and practically dragging her back underneath her own umbrella. Avrille looked shocked for a moment at Lavinia's behaviour, but then allowed herself to be pulled away.

"Until tonight then, Avrille," Lucius called after them. Avrille looked over her shoulder and gave him a quick smile before turning back to talk with Lavinia.

Lucius watched them go, then turned to me with a smug look as though daring me to say something to him. He, of course, knew that I wouldn't, and I hated myself for meeting his expectations. With a final smirk and a murmur of, "Should be fun…" he walked away in the direction of the castle gates. I was left behind to seethe in silent fury.


	13. Chapter Thirteen: AVRILLE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

_Avrille_

Lavinia and I ate lunch together in the Great Hall after the Quidditch match. We were still a little cold from being outside in the rain, so the selection of hot soups and stews on the table were welcomed wholeheartedly. I ladled myself an enormous bowl of beef stew and allowed its rich warmth to fill me up. The Great Hall was much louder than it had been at breakfast since most of the students were celebrating Gryffindor's surprise win over Slytherin.

"I'm so relieved that Harry Potter managed to pull it off in the end." Lavinia stated as she picked at her salad. "Slytherin has won the Quidditch cup ever since I started working here. Gets a bit boring after a while."

"I would imagine," I said after hastily swallowing a burning hot spoonful of stew. Truthfully, though, I was a little disappointed. I had been rooting for Slytherin since it was Professor Snape's team.

We ate in silence for a while. I think Lavinia was a little tired since she had a late class the night before. I chewed on a warm piece of bread and butter thoughtfully, wondering if Slytherin still was in the running for the Quidditch cup. I wasn't really familiar with the particulars of the sport.

Then out of nowhere, Lavinia said, "Be careful around Lucius Malfoy."

"Why?" I asked.

"He's just a bit of a flirt, that's all… But since the other governors will be there, I'm sure there's nothing to worry about."

Well, I hadn't needed Lavinia to tell me that. Just from the two meetings I had had with Lucius that much had been obvious. But like Lavinia said, some other governors would be there, so I was sure that he would be professional.

At the time that Lucius had stipulated, I walked out of the castle to find his carriage indeed waiting for me. The driver was very polite and held the door open for me as I climbed in. The rain had since stopped, but I was glad I didn't have to get my shoes soaking wet. Since Lucius had said that the gathering was going to be casual, I hadn't bothered to change my clothes from before.

The drive down to Hogsmeade went by very quickly. As we neared the Three Broomsticks, I expected the carriage to stop, but instead we kept going straight past it. The carriage did stop a moment later a few streets down and near the outskirts of the village in front of a small pub with a weather-stained sign reading, "The Hog's Head." I had never heard of it, and from the outside it did not appear to be the sort of place that high-ranking bureaucrats would likely frequent. Nevertheless, I thanked the driver as he helped me down and opened the inn door for me.

The pub was small, dark, and dingy. Smoking, sputtering torches illuminated a single room consisting of several rickety tables and a long splintered bar. There were several people already in the pub, though it was hard to tell if any one of them could be Lucius since almost all had dark hoods pulled up to obscure their faces. The hoods could also have been a good idea, I surmised, since the pub was draughty and cold. As I passed over the threshold, all heads turned to me and stared. I took a few hesitant steps inside.

A tall old man with a stringy grey beard was standing behind the bar, wiping it down with a brownish cloth which I seriously hoped had not once been white.

"You Mistress Asphodel?" he grunted as I approached him.

"Yes, I am. I'm supposed to be meeting some of the school governors here."

The bartender took a full look at me with a squinted eye. Finally, he said, "Up the stairs. First door on your right," and continued with his slow and lethargic wiping.

I carefully climbed the old pokey staircase since it was almost completely dark. I was hoping the rooms upstairs were better maintained than the bar, which smelled like it normally housed various barn animals. Upstairs there was what I suppose would technically be called a hall, though it was only a few yards long and led to only four closed doors. A single oil lamp stood on an uneven table at the end of it, casting a sickly yellow light on the unpainted wooden walls. I turned to the first door to my right and pressed an ear against it. I couldn't hear anything; perhaps I was the first one to arrive. I knocked then opened the door.

The room inside was surprisingly nice-looking and consisted of a bed and two tables surrounded by several cushioned chairs. Sitting at one of the tables was Lucius Malfoy and only Lucius Malfoy. He rose with a charming smile as I took off my cloak and hung it on a hook on the back of the door.

"Avrille, I'm delighted you were able to come," he said as he approached. Before I could do anything, he reached out and took my hand in both of his, kissing it lightly. I tried to keep myself from blushing as he led me over to the table he had been sitting at. I hated myself for thinking it of a married man, but it was impossible not to notice how handsome Lucius was with his sleek blonde hair brushed back and shining against his black wool business robes.

As he pulled a chair out for me, another knock sounded at the door and the old barman entered carrying a dusty bottle of wine and several glasses. He placed the wine and glasses on the table then stood back.

"How many more are you expecting, sir?" he asked Lucius.

"No more. Some urgent business came up, and I was the only one able to get away," Lucius replied, the whole time keeping his eyes firmly on me as he sat at the chair across. The barman shrugged his bony shoulders then left the room.

Wanting to get the situation perfectly clear, I asked once the door was closed once more, "So it's going to be just the two of us?"

Lucius smiled as he uncorked the wine bottle. "I hope that's alright. Unfortunately, things like this happen all too often in the business world. The other governors bade me offer their sincerest apologies to you and their wish to meet you some other time." He poured me a full glass of deep red wine.

I pulled the glass closer to me but did not drink. I watched as Lucius poured a glass for himself, then put the bottle back down on the table between us. I was starting to feel a little uncomfortable. I would not have agreed to the meeting if I had known that it would be just Lucius here and certainly not in front of Professor Snape. What would he have thought of me then?

I waited until Lucius took a deep swallow of wine before picking up my own drink. Even then I waited until he had placed his own glass back down so that I could see there was indeed less in it than before. It might have seemed like paranoia, but I knew better than to blindly accept a drink from a man I didn't really know. However, since Lucius had drunk it himself, and I would have been able to see if he had slipped anything into my glass, I allowed myself to take a small sip. It tasted normal.

Lucius took another drink before saying, "I hope you are enjoying your stay at Hogwarts."

"Yes, very much so," I replied, taking another small sip. The wine was very dry and obviously very expensive. I didn't like it much.

"I hope also that Severus is not making you work too hard," Lucius said with a flirtingly concerned expression.

"No, not at all. Professor Snape is a wonderful teacher."

"My son Draco speaks very highly of him. And, of course, Severus and I go far back." Lucius did not elaborate on that point, however, and poured himself another glass of wine. I was still slowly sipping mine, not wanting to get drunk.

"Draco flew very well in the match today," I commented.

Lucius smiled once more, though I noticed it did not reach his eyes. It gave him the appearance of grimacing slightly. "Not well enough, I'm afraid," he said, slightly rearranging the drape of his robes.

That seemed like a rather harsh thing to say, so I reasoned, "It was his first match, so he must have been pretty nervous. But I'm sure he tried his hardest."

Lucius brushed the air with his hand as if trying to sweep the topic away. "Oh I'm sure he did. He's a good boy. But I would like to hear more about you, Avrille. For instance, what do your parents think of you studying so far away from home?"

"My mother was a little worried, but she's alright with it now."

"And your father?"

"He was killed when I was a child."

Lucius' pale eyebrows rose. "How tragic!" he remarked, trying, I'm sure, to sound sympathetic but something about his tone rang hollow. I suddenly felt annoyed, but knew it would be stupid to anger such a powerful man. Besides, if he was a friend of Professor Snape, he deserved my respect.

"Yet, even though, you must be terribly lonely." Lucius' pale grey eyes studied me over the rim of his wineglass. I felt like he was trying to look right into me.

I placed my wineglass down, deciding that I had had enough. "Not really. I've made some good friends at Hogwarts."

"I'm very glad to hear it," Lucius said quietly. He gave me another cold smile before saying, "_I_ would very much like to be your friend, Avrille." Then, unexpectedly, he stood, and I saw that he had his wand in his hand. He flicked it once in my direction.

All of a sudden my mind went blank, then a feeling of combined euphoria and calmness stole my senses. As though watching from outside of my body, I saw Lucius move closer and slowly lean down into me. At the same time, I heard his voice whispering seductively in my thoughts, "_Kiss me."_

Devoid of any control I thought, _Why not? He's certainly handsome._ I closed my eyes and enjoyed the feeling of his strong fingers on my chin pulling me closer to his lips. Lucius' voice repeated its insistent command of, "_Kiss me," _and my traitorous freewill seemed perfectly happy to obey him. Lucius was so close now I could feel his breath against my face, yet he had stopped a finger's width away from my lips. The smallest part inside of me that was still conscious knew he wanted me to be the one to make the first move.

"_Kiss me. Kiss me."_

But then, from deep inside my heart, a tiny flame of resistance sputtered to life.

_But why?_

"_Kiss me."_

_You're already married…_

"_Kiss me."_

_I don't love you…_

"_Kiss me. You won't even remember it later."_

The small flicker of my self-awareness was desperately ransacking my mind for a reason to refuse, but it was quickly becoming overpowered. There seemed so many reasons to give into Lucius: He's attractive and wealthy. You're lonely. No one would ever know. What harm could it do? It's not like Professor Snape is ever going to notice you…

_Professor Snape…_

_Severus!_

_I love SEVERUS!_

My mind retrieving this thought achieved the mental equivalent of dropping a match into a tanker truck full of gasoline. For some reason I had never allowed myself to think of Professor Snape by his first name. I had been trying to control my growing love for him and keep him as an authority figure in my mind, but the simple act of thinking of him as the man of my true desires was enough to snap me back to my senses.

"_Kiss me!"_

"NO!" I screamed aloud. My eyes snapped open to a view consisting entirely of Lucius' surprised face. As the Imperius Curse's hold over me melted, I was suddenly confronted with the full measure of revulsion, horror, and rage at what he had been trying to do to me. All I knew at that moment was that I wanted him as far away from me as possible. Without knowing how, I gathered all my fury into a hot ball of sheer energy and loosed it directly at Lucius, sending him flying across the room to crash, I hoped extremely painfully, into the wall opposite. I jumped out of my chair, raised it in my hands, and threw it after him, missing his head by about two inches as it broke into pieces. Lucius stared up at me in disbelief as I advanced upon him, his arms held up protectively. He no longer looked the least bit handsome to me, his normally sleek blonde hair now a tangled mess covering his red face. I picked up a broken chair leg and jammed it into the floor dangerously close between his drawn up knees.

"If you _ever_ come near me again, _I will kill you,_" I hissed, striking the floor with the sharp wood once more for emphasis. Then, without waiting for a reply from the crumpled wreck on the floor, I threw down the chair leg, grabbed my cloak, and strode furiously from the room.

As I descended the stairs into the main tavern, I saw that every pair of shadowed eyes in the place was turned to me and the room was completely silent. I suppose I had probably made quite a racket.

"Everything alright, miss?" the old barman asked me tentatively, one hand now holding the dirty rag over a tankard resting in his other that was steadily dripping water into a pool on the bar.

"Yes! Just wonderful!" I yelled, not quite sure if I being sarcastic or not, and flung my cloak around my shoulders as I slammed the tavern door behind me. The sudden noise startled the horses attached to Lucius' carriage, and the groomsman stared at me in surprise. Perhaps he hadn't expected to see me again so soon.

"Well, what the hellare _you _looking at?" I shouted at the groom then turned angrily back up the street…

…And almost walked right into Professor Snape.

_Severus._

He had been about to enter the Hog's Head, and in my towering rage, I hadn't noticed him when I first exited the tavern.

"Oh. I'm sorry," I said hurriedly, my anger cooling quickly in the brisk November night's air into something more along the embarrassed-to-death lines.

"Are you alright?" he asked me quietly. Something in the soft tone of his voice told me he was not referring to my verbal attack on the hired help. All of a sudden I found myself wanting to cry.

"Yes," I murmured, willing the tears back behind my eyelashes. A moment ago my subconscious had forced me into the realization that I was, in fact, very much in love with Severus. I had been able to use that newfound love to fend off Lucius' despicable advances, but now having Severus here in the flesh, and remembering that he didn't love me in return, it was almost too much to bear.

Severus stood silently next to me as I turned my face from him to let the cool breeze discreetly dry my eyes. After a while he asked, "May I escort you back to the castle?"

Composed once more, I turned back to him and replied, "No, I wouldn't want to cause you any trouble. You can go on ahead inside. I'll be fine."

"It's no trouble at all. I have no more business here tonight." Severus' tone conveyed to me that he would brook no more refusal on the matter, and he had only asked as a politeness.

"Thank you. I would appreciate it." I started to walk back up the High Street once more, Severus a step or two behind. I pulled my cloak tighter around my shoulders. The adrenaline rush in the tavern had drained me, and I felt cold and exhausted. I probably would have just collapsed by the side of the road and bawled my eyes out if Severus hadn't been there silently herding me back up to the castle where I belonged.

I felt like a teenager who had been caught sneaking out of the house by her father. Although what Lucius had done was unpardonable, the blame lay with me as well. Lavinia had tried to warn me about Lucius, and I had brushed her off. I knew I should have left as soon as I realized that the other governors were not going to be present, though now I strongly suspected that the "urgent business" Lucius had referred to probably had something to do with him never informing them of a meeting with me in the first place. How could I have been so naïve?

Severus' even footfalls behind me matched up with my breathing as we climbed the long hill to Hogwarts. I wasn't sure if it made me feel better or not that he had been there. Had he known of Lucius' true character and come down to Hogsmeade to make sure I didn't get into trouble? If Lavinia had known what Lucius was truly like, then it seemed almost impossible for Severus not to know when he was on a first name basis with Lucius and often conducted business with him. Maybe he had felt it his duty as my supervisor to make sure that Lucius didn't "tamper" with me. After all it's not like he could have just _told_ me Lucius was a pervert. Severus was too proper and reserved for that sort of thing. Besides, Lavinia hadn't gone into any details, and she was a friend of mine.

At least Severus wasn't talking about it. I don't think I could have stood discussing what had occurred in that room. Somehow I knew Lucius wouldn't be bothering me anymore, and all I wanted now was to go bury my head under about ten pillows in bed and try to forget about the whole thing.

Once we were inside the front hall of the castle, I turned back to Severus. I stood there for a moment, not sure exactly what to say to him.

"Thank you," I said finally.

Severus nodded silently in reply.

Knowing that I was fast approaching tears again, I said quickly, "Good night, Professor Snape," and walked away toward the stairs leading up to my room.

"I…" His voice stopped me as I had just reached the foot of the stairs. I turned and took a few steps back toward him.

"I would be… honoured… if you would call me Severus," he said quietly. I was so surprised at the coincidence of this, since I had just begun to think of him by his name a short while before, that I froze for a moment. I didn't really know how to respond. Should I thank him again?

Severus seemed to understand the reason for my hesitation for he smiled faintly and said, "Good night… Avrille," then turned and walked quickly toward the dungeons.

I turned away as well and began to ascend the stairs, tears now flowing freely down my face. However, even though the events of the past hour had given me enough emotions-rage, disgust, relief, regret, _et cetera_-to warrant all sorts of tears, these were stemming from a bittersweet joy.

I thought I would eventually leave Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry without ever hearing Severus call me by my first name.


	14. Chapter Fourteen: SEVERUS

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

_Severus_

As soon as I saw Avrille leave the castle after dinner, I immediately followed her down to Hogsmeade. I walked as quickly as I could but lost sight of the carriage long before I reached the castle gates where I would be able to Apparate directly into the village. I did this as soon as it was possible, but I saw no sign of Lucius' carriage around where I had appeared in the village square. It was possible the driver had dropped her off at the appointed meeting place then drove on since Lucius obviously did not need the carriage himself to return to his manor.

I set off down the High Street to first look into the Three Broomsticks. I had no idea what I was actually going to do once I found the place where Avrille and the governors were. I was wary an appearance of mine would clue in Lucius to my distrust of him and also be taken as a sign of how much I actually did care for Avrille. If only I had someone else to take along down to Hogsmeade, a drinking partner to make me look much less suspicious, but in the past I had always gone to Hogsmeade alone.

I stopped at the Three Broomsticks but saw no sign of Lucius or Avrille inside the busy tavern. The next obvious spot, and probably more likely if Lucius had any dishonourable notions in his mind, would be the Hog's Head. Practically anything could happen in the Hog's Head. Though Aberforth had once been a member of the Order of the Phoenix, it did not mean he would care if Lucius seduced young women in his pub, as long as he paid the tab first. Fortunately I hadn't needed to actually go into the place since Avrille herself came storming out just as I was about to enter. I was glad that she allowed me to escort her back up to the castle because Lucius was not known to have an even temper when scorned.

Once we were both back at the castle, it took every ounce of long-practised self-restraint not to go back down to the Hog's Head and force poison down Lucius' throat. Though Avrille had not divulged any details of what happened there, I knew that Lucius had upset her, and for that fact alone I wanted his blood. Even so, I found my anger flavoured with a hint of relief. It was safe to assume that Lucius had tried to force himself onto Avrille, and judging from her fiery exit from the tavern, he had not succeeded. I am ashamed to admit one of my greatest fears had been that Avrille would be open to his advances and willingly accept them. The fact he was married and had a child had never seemed to bother Lucius' other mistresses. Though I wanted to believe Avrille's character was beyond reproach, I did not know her well enough to conclude for certain she would not give into his advances. With Lucius' polished good looks, vast wealth, and effortless charm I could never hope to compete.

Wanting to put the incident behind me, as I'm sure Avrille did as well, I decided not to mention anything that had transpired the previous night when we met the following afternoon to add the final ingredients to the Wolfsbane Potion. I had arrived in the workroom a few minutes before the hour and had just turned the heat up under the main cauldron when Avrille entered. She looked a little pale as if she hadn't slept very well, but perked up instantly as she approached the work table to see what I was doing.

"Hi! What do you want me to do?" she asked immediately, her perfume enveloping me as she breezed past to place her bag on a far table. She fetched out her dragon hide gloves from a pouch and joined me at my side in front of the cauldron.

"There are only two more ingredients," I said, pointing to another table where I had set out the moon cactus and the Ligurius stones.

"I'll crush the Ligurius if you want," Avrille offered, pulling on her gloves.

"If you wish," I replied, a little surprised that was the ingredient she chose to work on. "The stones are fairly fresh, under five days old I believe, so they haven't transformed into carbuncle yet. They should crush easily.

"You might want this," I added and Conjured another white facial mask.

"That's probably a good idea," Avrille said and accepted it with a smile; a Ligurius was, after all, crystallised lynx urine.

Avrille set about crushing the Ligurius stones with a mortar and pestle as I stood across from her at the table and cut open the moon cactus, slicing it into small pieces. The Ligurius crushed easily under her forceful pressure. Her deep brown eyes, the only part of her face not covered by the mask, showed a keen concentration with no hint of the disgust I usually saw in the looks of the fifth year students, male and female both, when I announced we would be using the crystals during class. Since I was finished extracting the juice out of the moon cactus, I watched Avrille's progress, telling myself I was simply supervising her preparation of the ingredient, though I knew staring at the graceful curve of her neck had nothing to do with that.

"I heard there was another attack last night," Avrille said quietly.

"Yes," I replied, forcing my gaze back down to her mortar as she looked up at me. "Colin Creevy was petrified, just like the cat."

"Not Colin?" Avrille gasped, making me glad that she was wearing that mask or else she probably would have just swallowed a mouthful of yellow dust. "He took my picture for that little article _The Hogwarts Herald_ did on Lockhart and me as new staff."

I nodded. I knew that quite well since I had kept that issue of the school paper, locked securely in my desk in my rooms, for the very picture of she had mentioned. I couldn't resist the temptation of being able to look at her whenever I wanted. Fortunately Lockhart had been photographed separately, so I had been able to take the gruesome pleasure of slicing free his picture and burning it slowly.

"This is serious…" Avrille murmured, her efforts with the pestle becoming slightly more aggressive as she worked out her anger over the attack.

"It is," I agreed solemnly. "The headmaster doesn't know what to make of it. Creevy has been brought to the hospital wing, but there is little Madam Pomfrey can do until Professor Sprout's mandrakes are full grown. Hers are the only ones in the country at the moment."

"What could be causing it though?" Avrille asked. "A student just doesn't fall over petrified for no reason… Could something have wandered onto the grounds from the forest or been brought into the school illegally? Like a gorgon or a cockatrice?"

I thought for a moment, frowning. "No, if _anything_ came onto the grounds from the outside, Hagrid would know about it immediately. And if, for some unthinkable reason, a student brought a creature like a cockatrice into the school, there would be more than just a single petrified boy. No student here could control a Dark creature like that."

Avrille shook her head, her eyes screwed up in anger as she pounded the pestle like a piston engine. "Who could want to hurt a sweet little boy like that?" she demanded furiously.

"I don't know," I said, rather untruthfully. The only thing I could think of was that if the person behind the attacks believed himself to be working on "The Heir of Slytherin's" wishes, it would make sense to attack Creevy since he was Muggle-born. But that still didn't solve the problem of _how_ the attacks were being carried out. I knew from past conversations with Dumbledore that when the Chamber of Secrets was opened fifty years ago, it had been when the Dark Lord was a student here. Therefore it had probably been his work. But the Dark Lord was vanquished for the moment… _How_ could the Chamber be opened once more?

Avrille was just finishing the last Ligurius stone when a noise caught my attention. I glanced over at the main cauldron and saw, to my horror, that it was boiling.

"Damn it!" I yelled, making Avrille's eyes shoot up to me in surprise as I rushed over to the cauldron and cut the heat.

"Was it boiling?" Avrille asked worriedly, running up to my side.

"Yes," I muttered, furious at myself. I was supposed to have turned off the heat right when Avrille entered the workroom at three, but my watching of her had made me completely forget.

"It is _not_ supposed to be brought to a boil until all of the ingredients are added. If I don't cool this immediately…" I couldn't bear to finish the sentence out loud, but I knew what it would mean. The entire potion could be ruined, and I would have the singularly unpleasant job of informing St. Mungo's that I did not have it for them. Unless the Healers had another source, there were going to be a fair amount of angry werewolves when the full moon came around in two days' time.

In a flurry of motion, Avrille pulled off her mask and grabbed my arm.

"Sieve the foam off," she said forcefully, pointing at the cauldron, then ran to the door.

"How can I cool this," I said to myself. "An Icing Charm? No, that will just _freeze_ the damn thing…"

"Severus!" Her impatient voice sounding my name for the first time snapped me out of my panicked thoughts. "_Sieve off the foam!" _she repeated with a commanding tone then vanished out the door. Her order rang through me, and before I knew it, I had picked up a spoon and was quickly scooping white foam off the top of the potion. My hands shook with anger; if this potion was ruined it would be one of the most embarrassing things to ever happen to me. I wish I knew where Avrille had gone because I really could have used another brain at the moment to think this through.

I had just ladled out the last of the foam when Avrille came sprinting back into the room, a small wooden box in her gloved hands. From a side table she grabbed a pair of tongs then shouldered me aside. As she opened the box, I was hit in the face with a blast of freezing vapour. With the tongs she scooped something out and dropped it into the cauldron. For a moment we just stood there, Avrille apparently studying the potion for a reaction and I just plain dumbfounded.

"How long do you think it had been boiling for?" Avrille asked.

"No more than a minute," I answered.

"It should be all right then…" she murmured. She turned to me and said, "Get the moon cactus juice," as she put the box down. I obeyed instantly as she grabbed the powdered Ligurius.

Back at the cauldron, Avrille took a deep breath then said, "Pour the juice in." I followed her instruction and scraped the juice off of the cutting board with a silver dagger. Avrille leaned over the potion and watched it for a moment.

"Ok… Nothing's supposed to happen, right?" she asked.

"No, the cactus juice is just a reactant, the Ligurius being the catalytic reagent. The Ligurius, however…"

"-Should turn the potion yellow. So if it turns yellow…"

"-It's not ruined," I concluded. Avrille looked to me with a grim smile, then dumped the contents of the mortar into the cauldron. We stood there for a few eternal seconds, then the potion slowly changed to a pale goldenrod. We both let out enormous sighs of relief.

As soon as I could talk again, I asked, "What did you put in there?"

Avrille picked up the wooden box once more, held it out to me and said, "Ellesmere Diamonds."

I took the box from her. It was plain except for a label containing a maple leaf made out of snowflakes. "Which are?"

"Ice chiselled from the polar caps and enchanted to never melt as long as they are kept in their sealed box. I figured it was the only way to instantly cool the potion without altering its pH. I ordered some a few weeks ago in case I needed them in my research and had put them in your storeroom for safekeeping. I hope that was all right," she finished, sounding a little nervous.

"All right?" I asked in disbelief. "It was brilliant! I've never heard of these before. Could you make another order for me? I'll reimburse you, of course."

Avrille smiled, her cheeks colouring a little. "My uncle exports them. I can get them free of charge."

I shook my head and handed the box back to her. "I don't know what to say… I'm quite embarrassed, actually. I panicked. I've made this potion so many times, and I've never made that mistake before."

Avrille smiled kindly. "Then it's only natural you didn't know how to react," she said and deposited the box in her bag.

"We're all done here, then," I said and turned the heat back up under the potion to the correct temperature it needed to simmer for overnight. I triple checked it for good measure. I turned to Avrille, knowing that I was completely incapable of expressing the full extent of the gratitude I was feeling towards her at the moment.

"Thank you, so very much," I finally said.

Avrille shrugged. "No problem. I'm just glad I could help."

We both decided it would be best to leave the potion behind in the workroom before anything else happened to it. Avrille left me at my office, having a Herbology evaluation to write, and I watched her go, at once both humbled and exhilarated. That was the first time an apprentice had ever taught _me_ something, and I could not have been happier about it.

Finally the next day, the Wolfsbane Potion was completed. I was never so glad to hand off a potion to someone else than that afternoon when I brought it to St. Mungo's hospital. All of the tests I had conducted on the potion that morning showed it to be brewed perfectly. At the hospital the Healers all thanked me profusely for my continued participation in the program, though I wished Avrille had been there to accept their appreciation. After all she _had _mostly brewed the entire thing without my help. I made a mental note to inform the Healers of Avrille's prodigious potion-making skills once her apprenticeship was complete. The hospital always needed Wolfsbane Potion, and I was more than confident Avrille could brew it just as well as I could.

For the next few weeks, things went back to normal. There had been no attacks following Mr Creevy's, but also no leads on the cause. Dumbledore was taken to wandering the corridors at night, silent and in deep contemplation. He did not ask any of us teachers about the attacks, not that we would have had anything to tell him. From what I could garner listening to my students in Slytherin House, they were all interested in what was happening, but all talked as if they had no idea who the perpetrator was.

Now that the Wolfsbane Potion was completed, I rarely saw Avrille out of class. I didn't often have enough extra work to ask her to mark, though she did assist me one or two more times. In class or around other professors, she continued to address me as Professor Snape, but in my office she always called me Severus. I tried to savour every moment I was with her, knowing as each week progressed it was one more week gone from her apprenticeship.


	15. Chapter Fifteen: AVRILLE

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

_Avrille_

Before I knew it, it was already December. Though still weeks away, thoughts of Christmas were making most of the students absolutely crazy. Severus unfortunately had to give out several detentions to those who simply could not keep themselves quiet during class. The weather turned bitingly frigid, and the first true snow of the season blanketed the grounds in white. Every morning I woke up and stared out the window, thinking how incredibly lucky I was to see such beauty every day.

There hadn't been another attack after little Colin, and most of the students seemed to forget anything strange had taken place over the past two months. They didn't do it out of meanness; it was just easier for everyone to treat Colin's condition as a strange accident and hope he was better soon. All of the teachers were keeping mum about the situation. Lavinia told me nothing like this had ever happened at Hogwarts as long as she could remember.

As for myself I was still working as hard as I possibly could every day. I had really liked Severus' suggestion of private tutoring, at least until something permanent at a school opened up. The problem was that as time passed, I was growing more and more fond of England. I missed home, but I also found myself much more attached to Hogwarts than I had ever been to my other two schools. Not to mention Severus was here, and I couldn't bear the thought of going back to Canada and never seeing him again. But all of that was still a ways away, so I tried to keep my focus on the work at hand which, despite the passing of the months, was not getting any easier.

Though Severus and I were certainly more friendly than we had been at the beginning of the term, he still held me to his rigid standards. I did, however, find a little time here and there to work on some private research. Though I was never much of an inventor, I found myself becoming more interested in how existing potions could be modified for the better. It was pure luck I had had access to those Ellesmere Diamonds and that they hadn't reacted badly with the Wolfsbane Potion. But since they did end up working, I starting wondering what else could have worked instead. So during my small amounts of free time, I worked alone in the dungeons brewing simple potions and fiddling with the ingredients to see what I'd come up with.

One day a week or so into December, I had been looking for ingredients in the few minutes I had after stocking the student stores for the next class and was unable to find something I needed for my current project. I thought this strange since Severus usually kept everything so organized. I decided it would be quicker to just go and ask him.

I knocked quietly on the door to Severus' office, not sure whether or not he would be there.

"Yes?" I heard his voice call. I opened the door slowly and poked my head in to see if I was bothering him. He was seated at his desk surrounded by paperwork. I considered coming back later, but he had already spotted me. "Avrille?"

"I'm sorry to bother you, but I need some ingredients from your storeroom for a project I'm working on," I said. Severus smiled at me and put down his quill.

"You're always free to help yourself," he replied.

"Well, actually, I don't know where everything is, and I didn't want to make a mess looking for it, so…" I trailed off, leaning against the door. "I already got boomslang skin and blackbrush nettles, but then I was looking for the viper fangs, and I didn't see them right away, so I thought maybe you might be out of them, and I wanted to check before moving everything absolutely everywhere, so the next time you went in you couldn't find anything…" I paused, realizing I was rambling. Severus was still smiling. Honestly, he never smiled at anyone except me; I must have been his prime source for daily entertainment.

He quickly rearranged the papers on his desk into two neat piles then rose, grabbing his robe off the back of his chair. "I have class in a minute anyway. Why don't I help you? I know the viper fangs are there somewhere. I just restocked."

I nodded quickly then moved back into the hall to give him room to exit. He shrugged on his robe, pulled his office door closed behind him, and led me back down the corridor to the largest dungeon classroom. The torches flared to life as we entered, flooding the classroom with an almost cheery flickering light which always seemed out of place with the dungeon's dripping walls and musty smell.

"You're observing today, correct?" he asked as he dug in his pockets for his keys. Finding them, he fit a large iron one into the antique storeroom lock.

"Yes, this period. The second years."

Severus unlocked the door and held it open for me. I made my way into the small storeroom, squeezing into a back corner so he could have more room to look. Severus reached for his ledger on a shelf near the door and flipped through it quickly, running a finger down the pages as he scanned.

"Yes… I knew I should have plenty. Let me see…" Since Severus was over a head taller than me, he could see more easily what was hidden on the upper shelves. "I try to keep things alphabetically to aid in their finding, but I've been so busy lately I've just thrown things every which where," he murmured as he moved thick clay jars and glass beakers back and forth, squinting at their labels in the dim light. His furtive motions were upsetting a thin layer of grime that seemed to coat everything in the room, causing dust to filter down onto his robes like a fine grey snow. I resisted the womanly urge to brush him off and just hoped he noticed eventually.

"Here we are!" he declared at last and pulled down a creased leather satchel that had been hiding behind a large bronze urn of "phoenix ash." He weighed out the amount I needed then tipped everything into the bag I had brought, already containing the boomslang skin and dried nettles. Severus rearranged a couple of items on the shelves and looked around the closet in discontent.

"I really must move all of this to a larger space. It's practically a cell in here." He then noticed the layer of soot coating his robes and beat it off impatiently. "Did you need anything else?" he asked, turning toward me.

"No, that was all that I had trouble with," I said.

"Shall we go then?" Severus asked with a motion for me to go before him. I must have tripped on a loose stone or something because before I knew what happened, my potions ingredients scattered across the floor and my breath caught with a jolt as Severus grabbed me before I crashed face-first onto the floor as well. The first thing I noticed was my toe throbbing where I had stubbed it. Then I realized Severus had his hands on my waist as my arms were wrapped around him in a sort of unplanned embrace. I could feel his heart pounding through my palm that rested on his chest. His hair was brushing the top of my forehead, and I looked up to see his startled expression. Just as our gazes met, the bell sounded to signal the end of the period. Severus quickly dropped his hands from me, and I reluctantly did the same.

"Sorry!" I breathed. I knelt to collect my scattered ingredients and rub my sore toe.

"Are you alright?" Severus asked as he crouched down beside me to help.

"Yes, I'm just so clumsy…" _Especially around you,_ I added silently. Now _my_ heart was pounding as I threw strewn-about viper fangs back into my bag.

"I just seem to be always crashing into you. It's not intentional, I swear," I said. At that moment we both reached for the same fang, and our hands touched. I pulled mine away quickly with a nervous laugh. From out in the corridor, the sounds of incoming students grabbed Severus' attention, and he rose, brushing off once more.

"Forgive me, I need to prepare class…" he apologized.

"Oh, go ahead! I'll be there in a second."

Severus walked out into the classroom just as the first swarm of students poured through the door, bringing with them waves of chatter which were instantaneously silenced when they saw the professor was already there. I quickly scooped up the last of my spill while the students mutely took their seats and took out their books, parchment, and quills.

Severus had already written the day's assignment on the board, a Swelling Solution, with a list of instructions and necessary ingredients. Without needing to be told what to do, the Slytherins and Gryffindors set to work gathering ingredients from the classroom supply I had just stocked. I stashed my own ingredients near the door and sat patiently at the front of the room, waiting for questions that would probably not come since most of the Gryffindors seemed too scared to ask, and the Slytherins knew Severus wouldn't deny _them_ answers.

While the second years sat around their desks preparing their cauldrons and ingredients, Severus made his way back over to me while keeping an eye on the Potter-Weasley-Granger trio, who were huddled together and whispering.

"Was everything still usable?" Severus asked quietly.

"Oh, yes, from what I could tell. Sorry again about that." I stared at my hands, which were smeared with dirt from fumbling around on the floor.

"Please, don't trouble yourself. It's my entirely my fault. I've been meaning to have Mr. Filch cement that stone down for ages. It's such dense rock that the Sticking Charm wears off continuously. I'll make sure to ask him tonight." He looked up quickly at the sound of sniggering from the Slytherin tables. The Malfoy-Crabbe-Goyle trio looked innocently back, and Severus returned his attention to me. I noticed that after he had turned his back to them once more, Draco Malfoy flicked a puffer-fish eye at Ron Weasley, which was obviously the source of the Slytherins' mirth.

I was about to alert Severus to the blatant wastefulness of his prized student when he surprised me by asking, "Are you chaperoning the Solstice Ball next week?" I wasn't able to ascertain from his tone whether he was trying to make small talk or actually interested.

"Probably; I thought it might be fun."

Severus scoffed. "Fun? Having to supervise hormonal teenagers while listening to ghastly music so loud one cannot think?"

"I see you've been before," I said wryly.

He grimaced for a response, which made me smile. "Professor Dumbledore asked me as well, of course, but I'm not sure whether or not I will." Severus hesitated, looking down as he rolled his wand between his fingers. "Of course, if _you're_ there, it might not be so torturous…" He looked up slightly.

"At least you'd have someone else who would appreciate viewing what on earth Lockhart's dress robes must look like," I said, grinning. Severus gave a small smile as well at the thought, but concealed it quickly. He liked to exert a certain image when he was teaching and looking happy certainly wasn't part of it.

"So… will you come?" he asked tentatively.

"Are you asking me?" I replied teasingly.

Before he could answer, an acrid smell made our heads turn in the direction of-oh dear-Neville Longbottom, whose cauldron was emitting some sort of sickly green vapour.

"Longbottom!" Severus yelled and strode over to offer his criticism. I sighed, pitying the poor boy who looked about ready to faint dead away from terror as Severus descended on him. The Slytherins were all snickering loudly and watched Neville's latest debasement with relish.

"Back to your work, please," I called out lightly to the Slytherins who gave Neville one last gleeful look before returning attention to their side of the dungeon. Severus was now making rounds inspecting the progress of everyone else's Swelling Solutions. I made my way over to Neville, who had turned away and appeared to be looking for something in his book bag. However, I caught the sound of quiet sniffs and saw him wipe his face on his sleeve before righting himself once more.

"Are you ok, Neville?" I whispered gently, crouching down next to him. Neville shrugged and stirred his foamy potion with a sort of hopelessness that was absolutely heartbreaking. Without Severus seeing, I whispered some helpful hints into his ear, to which he smiled a little and nodded in understanding. I straightened up and looked around to see if anyone else needed help. Severus was still moving about the room, pausing particularly, and not surprisingly, in front of Harry Potter with his arms folded. Severus dipped a ladle into Harry's potion and poured the golden liquid back, shaking his head. Even from where I stood near the Slytherin end, I could tell it was far too runny.

"I seem to recall writing on the board this potion requires _five_ minced puffer-fish sans eyes, Potter," Severus said with his usual sneer reserved especially for Harry, "not four." He tapped the table with the ladle where four pairs of googly eyes stared up at the two of them. "I think I'll take five points to help you better remember next time."

Severus then turned and seemed to be heading back to check on Neville. I moved quickly toward him to head him off and give Neville a chance to institute the instructions I had given him. A good thing it was too, for a split instant after I walked away from the Slytherin cauldrons, there was a huge splash and loud shrieks from students. Severus and I whipped around to see Gregory Goyle's potion had somehow exploded and had showered everyone within a five foot radius with the Swelling Solution to grotesque effects. Gregory had received a face-full and was stumbling around with his eyes each as large as his cauldron, and Draco's nose was quickly swelling to the size of a small watermelon (_Serves him right, the little creep, _I thought unashamedly).

Severus was across the dungeon in seconds flat to restore order. I was about to fetch the antidote from his desk at the front of the room when a sudden movement from the Gryffindor tables attracted my attention. Most of the Gryffindors were trying to look calm or hiding laughs behind their hands, but I caught sight of Hermione Granger's fluffy brown hair disappearing into Severus' private ingredient store room, the door to which I had accidentally left ajar.

Severus startled me by yelling over the confusion, "Silence! SILENCE! Anyone who has been splashed, come here for a Deflating Draught-when I find out who did this-" _[1.]_ he trailed off as the affected Slytherins stumbled toward him, various appendages engorged to astounding proportions. Pansy Parkinson needed to be aided by a couple girlfriends since her legs had swelled to the width of tree trunks. While Severus administered the antidote, I saw Hermione slip back into the classroom, something tucked into the front of her robes. Intrigued, I decided not to bring this to the attention of Severus, who had enough to deal with at the moment, and investigate later myself.

After all the students had been returned to normal, Severus swept over to Gregory's splattered cauldron. With a pair of long tongs, he fished out something that looked like burnt paper but carried the definite whiff of gunpowder. The room fell dead silent at once, and all eyes were fixed on the professor.

"If I ever find out who threw this, I shall _make sure_ that person is expelled,"_ [2.] _Severus said in a dangerous whisper while staring directly at Harry Potter. Harry blinked innocently back at him and looked genuinely puzzled.

The remaining ten minutes of class were hushed and tense. Severus' fury fumed from him like the vapours steaming off the cauldrons as he checked each student's potion on a very traumatized frog. He skipped Gregory's Solution, which had already proved extremely effective. I saw that despite the accident, Gregory received full marks, probably the only time in his life. I was glad to see Severus passed Neville, whose potion had gained a goldish tint and was no longer emitting foul odours.

When the bell rang, it was a relief to everyone. "I want a whole roll of parchment detailing the history, uses, and _correct_ brewing procedures of the Swelling Solution due next class!" Severus barked over the tolling bell. Most students groaned quietly but made a note of it in their planners.

The Gryffindors quickly skittered through the door, the Slytherins giving them the dirtiest of looks; obviously it had not been a Slytherin who had thrown the firecracker. Once the room was clear of students, Severus fell into his desk chair and rubbed his face with his hands.

"You didn't happen to see who threw it, did you?" he asked wearily.

"No," I answered apologetically. It was the truth, however, I had a sneaking suspicion it had been either Harry or Ron to create a diversion for Hermione to slip into the storeroom. I felt guilty not telling Severus this; he looked so drained and frustrated. But I knew Hermione was a model student and must have had a good reason for what she did. And, frankly, I didn't trust Severus to look past his prejudice of Harry and his friends to find out the truth before administering the punishment with which he had threatened the class.

"Are you coming to lunch?" I asked.

Severus eyed me for a moment with his chin rested on his hand. "No, I think I'll clean up a bit here first. I probably should reorganize the storeroom as well. You go on ahead." He stood and waved his wand at the gargoyle sink in the corner which started to weep fountains immediately.

I stood watching him for a moment. "Do you want any help?" I offered hesitantly.

"I'm fine," he answered, rather brusquely, as he washed his hands in the sink. His posture was tense and rigid as he furiously rubbed a pumice stone between his palms. The firecracker incident had upset him more than I thought. He seemed to want to be alone for a while.

"I'll see you later," I said quietly and hurried out, picking up my bag on my way through the door. The dungeons were empty, but as soon as I climbed the stairs to the ground floor, students seemed to be everywhere. Most were heading to lunch, others back to their dormitories for a quick rest or some last minute studying before class. The air in the corridors buzzed with excitement from the quickly approaching holiday season. A group of fifth year Ravenclaws were crowded around the notice board, reading the date for the last Hogsmeade trip before break.

Lunch was magnificent, like always. I sat next to Hagrid, who described to me excitedly Christmas at Hogwarts, making me very glad I had written to my mother telling her I would be staying here for the holiday. I ate a delicious ham sandwich, while Hagrid ate a whole ham. But even Hagrid's cheery conversation couldn't dispel the uneasy feelings in me. My mind kept wandering to thoughts of Severus alone in the dungeons and what I had seen during the Potions class "accident."

Finishing up my sandwich, I decided to go down and help Severus clean even if he insisted he didn't need any. As a quick afterthought, I also took a cup of tea and a sandwich wrapped in a napkin with me. It wouldn't do him good at all to go without eating.

By now the entrance hall was deserted as classes had resumed once more. I took the dungeon stairs slowly, trying my best not to slosh tea on myself. I first went to the large dungeon classroom expecting Severus to still be there tidying up, but it stood dark, empty, and silent. I entered the classroom, my movement triggering the torches to light. I placed the tea and sandwich down and walked over to the storeroom. After unlocking the door which Severus must have secured before leaving, I glanced around inside to see if anything was out of place. It didn't look like Severus had gotten around to organizing after all since the wooden cask containing the boomslang skin was still on the floor.

Wait a minute.

Thinking back, I could see myself putting it back on the shelf once I had collected my supplies. I slid the lid off the cask and counted the leathery strips within. There were eleven in the box, and I distinctly remembered writing down thirteen in the ledger once I had taken what I needed. Is that what Hermione had come in here for? What on earth could she want with boomslang skin?

Shrugging to myself, I took up the refreshments once more after locking the storeroom up tight and went back down the corridor to Severus' office. Now that I wasn't concentrating so hard on manoeuvring the tricky stairs with a hot beverage, I noticed the door was ajar, and I could see firelight flickering through the opening. Since my hands were full and I couldn't knock, I prodded the door open with my toe and peeked around like I had done earlier. Once again, Severus was sitting at his desk with paperwork covering every inch of workspace. He was scribbling something furiously while muttering angrily to himself, and I pitied whoever's paper was being graded. I cleared my throat quietly, and Severus looked up, obviously very surprised to see me again.

"I thought you might be hungry," I said and walked over to his desk, placing the tea and sandwich on the only empty space there was on top of his grade book.

Severus seemed extremely taken aback. "Thank you," he murmured gratefully after a moment and stared up at me with an unreadable expression.

"The tea may need reheating," I said. He continued to look at me, making me rather uncomfortable for I didn't know what he wanted. "Is there anything I can help you with?" I asked finally. Severus started, obviously not realizing he had been staring, and looked back at the mess strewn across his desk.

"I'm just marking the first years' homework, if you want to take some of it," he said and tapped the cup with his wand, setting the tea steaming once more.

"Sure," I replied and pulled up a chair next to him. He divided the parchment into two piles and gave me one with a quill and ink. We sat reading in silence for about ten minutes, the only sounds the crackling of the fire and the scratching of our quills.

Suddenly out of nowhere Severus said, "I hate teaching."

"No you don't," I countered instantly. He looked over at me in surprise.

"I don't?"

"No, you love it. You're just having a bad day." I paused, looking back at him seriously. "Your tea's gone cold again," I said, pointing to it with my quill.

"Forgive me, and after all the trouble you took to bring it," Severus said and warmed it up once more. He sipped it while deep in thought. I started to grade again, but he interrupted me. "So, have you decided to chaperone the Ball or not?"

I smiled. "Oh, I guess so. Wouldn't want to miss a part of the whole Hogwarts experience."

"Good," he replied simply.

After a bit more grading, Severus looked up at the clock and said he had to get to class. "Seventh years, thank God," he breathed and put down his quill. "I can't handle any more under O.W.L. today." He thanked me once more for the tea, and I made him promise to eat the sandwich later. I left him to go back to my room and read until dinner, still feeling guilty about what I had observed earlier in class.

Luckily the next day I had a chance to speak with Hermione. I caught her just as she was leaving the Great Hall after dinner, flanked by her faithful boys Potter and Weasley. They were deep in conversation, and I had to physically step in front of them to catch their attention.

"Miss Granger, are you free?" I asked gently, but behind Hermione, Harry and Ron exchanged looks of absolute terror. Perhaps they feared I had seen who threw the firecracker. Hermione, however, remained calm and nodded.

"I would like to speak with you in private for a minute," I said. Hermione waved the boys away, then I led her away from the Great Hall and up the marble stairs to my office. I opened the door and let Hermione enter.

"Sit, please," I said, gesturing to one of the chairs in front of my desk. Hermione sat, though very stiffly with her back perfectly straight and her chin a little raised.

"Is there something wrong, Mistress Asphodel?" she asked. Her tone of voice made me feel like _I_ was the one about to be questioned. I simply smiled and took my seat, clearing a space in my voluminous piles of notes and books. I decided to come right out with it.

"Hermione, yesterday during your Potions lesson I saw you enter Professor Snape's private ingredient stores, which you know are off-limits to students." I paused to see her reaction. She reddened a little when I said this, but offered no other outward signs of alarm. I sighed and leaned forward to rest my elbows on the desk. Apparently Miss Granger was going to be a tough nut to crack.

"I did not inform Professor Snape of this because I wanted to talk to you first. I know you are the top student of your year and that you and your friends seem to have a certain… capacity for landing yourselves in trouble while trying to do a good thing. I am also sure that you would not venture something as risky as stealing from Professor Snape during a class and _perhaps _cause a rather explosive diversion unless you had a very good reason for it. So, all I would like to know is that reason, if you can tell me." I sat back, realizing that I was taking a very risky approach to this by treating Hermione like someone who didn't have to answer if she didn't want to.

Hermione sighed and twisted her robe between her fingers. "I took some ingredients because I needed them for… something…" She looked up at me with an expression that read, "That's not going to be good enough for you, is it?" and I countered with one that clearly stated, "No."

"Does this 'something' have anything to do with the recent attacks around the school?" I prodded gently. Hermione nodded. "I know many students here are suspicious of Harry. I also believe that you, as his friend, would probably go to great lengths to clear his name and discover the true culprit. Am I correct with that?"

Hermione nodded once again but clearly did not want to say what she was up to. I took a deep breath and realized I was rather stuck now. The fire was crackling merrily and helping to dispel the chill. I stared out the window for a moment watching a few lone snowflakes float by. Finally I decided there was really nothing I could do besides let it go or report her to Severus, which would not be pleasant for any of us involved.

"Well, Miss Granger, since as I said before, I know you would not have done anything to possibly rouse Professor Snape unless there was something _very _important at stake," I said with extra emphasis which made Hermione grin, "I'm going to trust you and forget about the whole thing. However, if I ever see anything of that nature again, I will be forced to report it. Do you understand?"

"Yes, ma'am," Hermione whispered, apparently astounded I was letting her go without punishment.

"I just hope whatever you're working on will help solve these attacks," I sighed and motioned to Hermione that she could leave.

"Thank you, Mistress Asphodel," Hermione breathed sincerely and hurried from the room, leaving me behind to wonder if I had done the right thing after all.

* * *

_[1.]_ From _Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets_, by J.K. Rowling, Page 187 (US paperback edition)

_[2.]_ From _Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets_, by J.K. Rowling, Page 188 (US paperback edition)


	16. Chapter Sixteen: SEVERUS

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

_Severus_

The night of the Solstice Ball found me wishing I had refused to chaperone. I had forgotten when I agreed what a bother it was to pull the old dress robes out of storage and try to make oneself look presentable, especially now that there was going to be someone at the ball whom I actually cared to impress. An hour before the ball was to begin, I forced myself from the bloody mirror and made my way down to the Great Hall where several staff members had already congregated to pull together the finishing touches. The night's band was setting up on the teachers' platform. The logo on the drummer's bass read, "The Screaming Crucible," and the band members' hair consisted of a variety of colours ranging from lime green to blue. Oh, this was going to be wonderful.

Dumbledore was situated in the centre of the hall waving his hands and shouting instructions across the space at the several prefects who had volunteered to help set up. Percy Weasley was looking rather ridiculous in scarlet dress robes that, at that moment, matched not only his hair but his face which was dripping sweat from Dumbledore's frantic pace. Penelope Clearwater, a Ravenclaw prefect, was chasing Weasley back and forth with a glass of water, trying to make him drink something.

I looked around the hall to see if Avrille had come down yet. She didn't appear to have, but I did spot Lockhart chatting up The Screaming Crucible's orange-haired lead-singer. Avrille would be pleased to see Lockhart's dress robes did not disappoint: they were salmon pink.

I tried to make myself useful to Dumbledore, but he insisted the prefects had everything under control and the staff were to relax. I therefore sat absolutely bored on one of the House benches pushed off to the sides of the room until quarter to eight when students began massing themselves around the entryway. After a minute the crowd began shifting awkwardly as though pushing against itself, then Avrille popped out in front after having weaved through about fifty students. Even though her hair was a little dishevelled from the effort, and her robes were slightly askew, she was the loveliest vision I had ever seen. Her cinnamon-brown hair was fixed in loose ringlets cascading over her bare shoulders and down her back. She was adorned in a strapless forest green gown covered by a sleeveless, sheer silver robe. However, she seemed quite oblivious to her beauty and did not notice how many of the students and not a few of the staff stared at her as she entered.

She walked quickly over when she spotted me, her hands rearranging the pins holding her hair back from her face.. "Sorry, am I late?" she asked slightly out of breath. "I wasn't sure when to get here."

I shook my head. "Not at all. Professor Dumbledore's been having the prefects do all the work anyway," I said, pointing to where two of my own Slytherin prefects, Adrian Pucey and Archer Chant, were levitating the last crystal balls into place among the ceiling rafters.

"Oh, look! We match!" Avrille proclaimed amusedly, pointing at our green and silver robes. She took a seat next to me, very close indeed, and arranged her skirt.

"The Slytherins will appreciate your taste," I replied, trying to keep my eyes off her bare shoulder inches from me. I was at an absolute loss for words. Thoughts of how she was the most beautiful woman I had ever beheld circled endlessly through my mind. Her exquisiteness making a mute of me, we sat silently together for the next few minutes.

Suddenly remembering-how could I have forgotten-I nudged Avrille gently with my elbow and jerked my head in the direction of Lockhart, who now had the whole band surrounding him and was undoubtedly pantomiming one of his "achievements." Avrille had to conceal a snigger behind her hand when she spotted the salmon pink robes and pointed to the hem which sparkled with sequins. Just then the bell tolled eight, and the "musicians" scurried onto the platform and took up their instruments.

Dumbledore beckoned to the mass in the entrance hall. The students swarmed in as the lights dimmed and enchanted snow started to drift lazily down from the ceiling. After introducing her band, the lead singer began belting out a peppy number, and I was reminded once again why I never attended these things when I could help it. Avrille sighed next to me, watching the few students who were dancing. Most were still milling around the benches in gender segregated clumps.

"Did you have dances like this when you were at school?" I asked, rather loudly as to be heard over the pulsing bass.

"No," Avrille shouted back. "All-girl school, remember?"

"Of course," I muttered, rolling my eyes at myself. I wished I wasn't so horrible at trying to make conversation.

"Did you ever come to a Solstice Ball when _you_ were here?" Avrille asked, leaning into me so she didn't need to yell so much over the music. As she did a few of her curls tumbled on to my robes, and I breathed in the sweet scent of rosewater.

I laughed dryly. "Not really." I didn't at the moment feel like divulging that while a student at Hogwarts, I had never once roused the courage to ask a girl to accompany me nor been asked by anyone myself. Not to mention spending an evening watching James Potter and Sirius Black violate every girl in the hall did not especially appeal at the time either. I usually spent each Solstice Ball in the Slytherin common room reading and wishing for a life that did not so closely resemble hell.

As the band switched to a new song, Lavinia came rushing up to us and grabbed Avrille by the hands. She was dressed in robes of midnight blue that made her skin look even paler than usual, and her black hair was piled precariously on top of her head.

"Avrille! You look absolutely smashing!" she gushed. Then, as if only just realising I was there as well, she said rather stiffly, "Oh. Good evening, Severus. Fancy seeing you here." I stood and gave a curt nod and tried not to watch how Avrille's eyes were shining in the light like the magical stars above.

"You just _have_ to come try the punch. It's positively divine!" Lavinia continued, pointing to the opposite side of the room where a refreshment table was being plundered quickly by a group of ravenous seventh year Hufflepuff boys who had come stag. Lavinia pulled Avrille up and wrapped an arm around her waist. While dragging Avrille away with her, I heard Lavinia state rather loudly, "When I saw you stuck with Severus I just _had_ to come rescue you. What a bore! Don't feel like you have to keep _him_ company."

Avrille turned and gave me an apologetic smile before being led off to the punch bowl. With a heavy sigh, I sat back down, trying to come to terms with the fact that even my own colleagues thought me a hopeless case. Just like they all expected, I would spend the entire evening sitting here in the corner, much like what probably would have happened if I had ever bothered to attend one of these as a student myself.

The music was so horrendously manic I wondered how anyone was dancing to it at all. Yet some were, most surprisingly Pomona and Francis Kettleburn who were trying to manage a frantic jitter-bug. The sight was comical due to Francis' wooden leg, but also a bit charming. I wondered if those two had ever gotten together outside of the professional capacity. My thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of a lurid pink shape that had appeared suddenly on my right.

"What a night!" Lockhart proclaimed to me. I looked up to see him taking a subtle swig from an engraved golden flask before stashing it back in his robes. Well well well… Indeed Lockhart was swaying slightly and not to the music, his face almost as flushed as the ridiculous colour he was wearing. However, Lockhart was not looking at me but gazing in a direction suspiciously close to where Avrille stood laughing with Lavinia.

"Are you fancying dancing with anyone tonight?" Lockhart asked, trying to sound innocent, but the slurring of his words wasn't helping.

"Not with you, if you're asking," I replied dryly. Lockhart guffawed loudly and clapped me on the back, much to my displeasure.

"Ah, Snape, you need to relax once in a while! Now I, on the other hand, have relaxed myself plenty and am currently keen on asking Avrille for a turn." So it _was_ Avrille that he was watching. I especially did not like the licentious look in his eyes.

"_Mistress_ Asphodel has informed me she is not inclined to dancing tonight," I said sharply. Lockhart remained unfazed and kept fussing with his golden locks by way of his reflection in the window.

"Well, we'll see about that," he replied, turning back to me. "Do try to have _some_ fun, old chap," he said and wandered off in the direction of the stage once more.

An hour passed uneventfully. Lockhart stayed away from Avrille, and Avrille stayed away from me. I dutifully made the rounds twice, shining my wand into dark corners to ferret out any over-amorous couples. I had to admit that the band's music did improve somewhat after a while, perhaps after their nerves had settled. The vocalist even had a rather pretty voice when she sang those cloying love songs students used as an excuse to grope each other.

By nine thirty almost every student had paired off, and the hall was filled with dancing couples. I contented myself with watching Avrille while I made the rounds once more. She danced a few times, even once with Dumbledore, who was very accomplished and drew applause from the surrounding students. I even tried be sociable and engage in some conversation. Minerva and Pythagora Vector were having a heated argument about the only proper way to stew jackalope and asked my opinion, to which I replied I had absolutely no idea.

Sometime before eleven, Avrille came back over to where I was situated near the hall doors slouched on a bench and seeing how long I could stand to have the mortar wall dig into the back of my skull. She sat down beside me and didn't say anything, but kept glancing at me out of the corner of her eye. Finally she asked, "Are you having a good time?"

"Absolutely smashing," I replied tonelessly.

Avrille considered me for a moment. Then she said offhandedly, "Maybe you should dance." I couldn't tell if she looking for an invitation or just telling me to go find myself a partner. Before I could indeed consider asking her, Lockhart oozed his way up to us.

"Would you care to dance, Mistress Asphodel?" he asked smarmily with a low bow. Avrille glanced at me for a moment, but I refused to betray any emotion, staring straight ahead with my arms crossed.

"All right," Avrille replied with a half-hearted shrug and accepted Lockhart's offered hand. Without letting Avrille see, Lockhart looked back over his shoulder at me and smirked in a nauseatingly triumphant manner. He led Avrille to the centre of the room just as the singer switched to a slow ballad. I rose as well and moved back over near the refreshment table so I could keep an eye on Lockhart and make sure he behaved himself. Who knew how much more he had been drinking since earlier.

I found I couldn't take my eyes off Avrille as she danced with Lockhart, no matter who might notice. The thought that it could be me holding her drove me mad with jealousy. If I could only gather the courage to ask; there was even a decent chance she would say yes. After all if she had agreed to dance with Lockhart, whom I knew she abhorred, there was no obvious reason why she would not dance with me...

Through the song Avrille remained a prisoner captured in the arms of that unimaginable fop, although she was smiling pleasantly and making some sort of small talk with him. Unable to stand the sight any longer, I strode purposefully away from that end of the hall, searching for any students breaking the rules of propriety to spread my own misery throughout the room by issuing detentions. But even though I tried to distance myself from Avrille, I could still see a hint of her profile, a shimmer of her hair, or a swirl of her gown through the swarms of dancing students. Realising my avoidance tactic was useless, I decided to just settle myself somewhere discreet so I could at least look at Avrille if not be with her.

Lockhart still held her tightly to him, but now looking closely I noticed that his hand was slowly moving from her waist down to her hip. Avrille shot him a dirty look, but he was either being unobservant or just a plain, ordinary bastard. Well, I certainly couldn't stand there and allow Avrille to be manhandled by someone who looked like he should be handling men. Finally steeling my resolve, I pushed my way through waves of grappling students to where Lockhart and Avrille were.

Lockhart stared at me as I approached with the same sort of wide-eyed idiocy I had come to expect from him.

"That will do, Lockhart. I'm cutting in," I said with the most disdain I could muster.

Lockhart backed off with his hands raised in mock defence. "I'll just get us some punch!" he said with a dopey smile at Avrille.

"Yeah, you do that," she replied icily and raised her eyebrows at me when Lockhart's pink back was turned in retreat. I took Avrille's hand in mine and placed my other on her waist. As I did this, I noticed an increase in muttering from the students around us. I tried to ignore it and watched Lockhart as he tried unsuccessfully to persuade Lavinia to dance with him instead. She seemed to reply with some very cutting words before turning back to her conversation with Pythagora, whose dress robes looked like they had come from the eighteenth century. Finally realising I could not postpone the inevitable, I looked back to Avrille who was, like I had been, trying to look everywhere except at me. I had probably just mortified her, creating a scene with Lockhart in the midst of a horde of gossipy sixth year Gryffindors.

"I'm sorry about that," I muttered. Avrille glanced up at me then lowered her eyes to the floor.

"No, it's fine. I was about to tell the creep off anyway." She looked up again and smiled. We were silent for a minute or so, each second becoming increasingly more uncomfortable. Avrille opened her mouth as if to say something once, then decided against it.

"You're looking… very pretty this evening," I said quietly so as not to be overheard.

"So are you!" Avrille replied. "I mean," she added hurriedly at my raised eyebrow (I'd certainly never been called "pretty" before), "What I _meant_ was, it's nice to see you out of black for once."

"Well, we don't meet much outside of school," I commented.

"Perhaps we could…" Avrille said trailing off, looking up at me through her eyelashes in a way that made my heart feel close to bursting. Before I could even begin to fathom her reply or think of an answer that would convey my feelings appropriately without leaving me vulnerable, the song ended. The lights rose slightly, and the vocalist began singing a fast dance number.

Avrille and I retreated to the side-lines quickly to avoid being trampled by the frantic dancing of the students, the boys spinning their dates wildly while the girls shrieked in delight. Avrille was watching the carefree students with amusement, her dark brown eyes gleaming in the flashing lights. Perhaps tired from the night, Avrille seemed happy to sit out the rest of the dance which was only two more songs. At the end the students protested loudly but were soon all sent off to their dormitories as the band packed up. Dumbledore insisted the staff should retire as well and claimed to need no help setting the Great Hall aright. Once the band had departed, he simply waved his hands, and the decorations vanished while the four House tables and the staff table flew through the air back to their respective places.

I accompanied Avrille to the marble staircase where our paths would part, the entry hall now empty and silent.

Avrille turned towards me in the semi-darkness. The hall candles were burning low in their holders and cast long shadows across the flagstones. "Thank you for dancing with me. I had a really nice time," she said with her hands clasped behind her back.

"I as well," I replied and realised I really meant it. Despite most of the dance being a droll chore, those few minutes of holding Avrille had been worth sitting through one hundred Solstice Balls. Of course I could not convey any of this to her, so I settled with a simple, "Good night," and headed down the dungeon steps towards my rooms while cursing my unfailing reticence.

After dressing for bed, I decided it would be prudent to take a sedative or else I knew I would be up all night thinking of her. I had a full day tomorrow of marking and preparing for the end of term. Damn, and Lockhart wanted my input on the duelling club he was planning on running Sunday which, of course, meant _I _would be running it since he was an incompetent prat. Just what I needed… more work.


	17. Chapter Seventeen: AVRILLE

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

_Avrille_

After the Solstice Ball, I lay in bed reliving over and over the moment when Severus had come to my rescue after Lockhart basically tried to cop a feel. Every time I thought of him saying, "That will do, Lockhart. I'm cutting in," I couldn't help but squeal into my pillow like a love-struck preteen. _Then,_ Severus had said I looked pretty. But he hadn't commented when I said I wanted to see him more away from the school… Maybe he hadn't heard me. I _had_ said it rather quietly. Then that really loud song came on, and we had to move. Thinking back, I actually hoped he hadn't heard me say it… What had possessed me to?

What I wouldn't I have given to dance with him for just one more slow song. I had felt so safe and content as he held me. I felt like crying knowing that there would be no other excuse for contact like that again.

Thoughts of Severus kept me awake for hours, but I didn't care since I had nothing planned for the following morning. At long last I was able to settle down by promising myself first thing tomorrow I would go see Severus and ask him out for a Christmas drink. I mean, that wouldn't be so strange, would it? It didn't seem to imply anything, but could if he wanted it to…

No, I needed to stop thinking like that. He was my superior, and it wasn't healthy to keep hoping for something that would never happen. Nevertheless, I did think that the Christmas drink was still a good idea. Severus needed to get out of the castle once in a while and be more sociable. The term was finally almost over, and it would be nice to go out and do something fun. That was the only reason. No ulterior motive. Finally I fell asleep after the bell tolled two, not happy but at least satisfied with my plan.

The next morning I greatly over-slept and simply couldn't rouse myself until eleven o'clock. I sighed, knowing breakfast was long over along with any chance to talk to Severus there. But it being the last week of the term, I had a fairly good idea where he would be for the entirety of the day.

It took me a while to shower since I had to wash my hair three times just to clean out all of the "Esmeralda Noggin's 'Hold it Right Thair' Styling Wax" I had used to keep my hair in curls the night before. After dressing I headed straight down to the dungeons where Severus' office door stood open, casting a flickering rectangle of light onto the shadowy flagstones. Though I couldn't make out any words due to the echoing stone passageway, I could hear two voices coming from the office: the low pulse of Severus' baritone mixed with a higher voice sounding slightly whiny. As I approached nearer, I could hear the latter was Draco Malfoy's, and he seemed to be disputing his last grade from the Swelling Solution.

"But sir, you gave _Goyle_ a perfect ten!" Malfoy was arguing. "You simply can't mark me lower than _him!_"

"Mr. Goyle was compensated due to the inconvenience he suffered from that puerile attempt at sabotage." Severus' voice sounded dangerously out of patience, and I had a feeling he was about to kick Draco out of his office. "And I sincerely doubt your father would be pleased if I wrote to him to say his son was begging the head of Slytherin House for marks he did not earn."

This seemed to shut Draco up. I heard a muttered, "Yes, sir," before Draco slinked unhappily out of Severus' office with an ugly scowl twisting his face. When he saw me, the scowl vanished and was replaced by a look I have to assume was intended to be Malfoy Charm.

"Good afternoon, Mistress Asphodel," Draco said pleasantly with a little bow of his head before withdrawing toward the Slytherin dormitories. I rolled my eyes at his retreating back then stepped into Severus' office.

He looked up as I entered and sighed, "Would you mind closing the door?" I obeyed quickly while noting the office to be in more disarray than I had ever seen. Seeing my eyes wandering over the endless stacks of parchment, Severus smiled grimly and said, "Welcome to the end of term. If you've come to offer your services, I would gladly accept them."

"I would be happy to," I replied and pulled my usual chair up to his side.

"You can finish the second years' assignments. I had better handle the N.E.W.T.s, but you are welcome to review my notes when I'm finished," Severus said, offering me a plate of Honeydukes chocolate biscuits which had apparently served as his breakfast. I gladly took them and poured myself a cup of lukewarm coffee from a pot on the sideboard.

"Just wake up?" Severus asked as he tapped my coffee cup with his wand to reheat it for me.

"How did you guess?" I replied sarcastically, painfully aware I must have had some horrible circles under my eyes. Holding a biscuit between my teeth, I quickly shuffled through the small pile of second year parchments which Severus had already graded. I noticed Draco's paper in there, and indeed he had only received an eight out of ten grade for his practical and a nine out of ten on his theory. I nearly dropped my biscuit when I saw the paper underneath: Harry Potter's. Severus had given him a passing seven on his theory homework but only a _two_ for his potion.

"Um… Severus?" I inquired hesitantly.

"Yes?" He jumped a bit. He had been very engrossed in one of the N.E.W.T. level essays.

"Is this grade right?" I showed him Harry's paper.

Severus took a quick glance at it and cleared his throat slightly. "Yes, that is correct."

I stared at the paper, wondering if it was my place to argue a grade he had already set. My conscience got the better of me. After all I was supposed to be here to learn, so Severus must expect me to ask questions.

"It's just that I watched you test Mr. Potter's Swelling Solution, and it worked fine, even if the viscosity was a bit low…" I looked up nervously. Severus had gone back to reading the N.E.W.T. essay. Refusing to relent without an explanation, I continued to stare at him until he glanced up, looking slightly annoyed.

"Potter threw the firecracker," he stated definitively. I was taken aback. Had someone seen and come forward? Or had a Slytherin just claimed it to get Harry in trouble?

"Who told you that?" I asked suspiciously.

"No one. Call it… professor's intuition." Severus replied resting his temple on his fist, his hair falling as a black screen over his face and obscuring my view of it.

"You can't penalize a student based on intuition!" I retorted.

Severus straightened up and stared at me, his dark eyes hard. It was the sort of look my father used to give me when talked back to. I thought for a moment Severus was going to yell at me, but then his face softened. He looked exhausted.

"You're right. That was unwarranted. Please re-mark it as you see fit." Severus waved his wand, and his corrections vanished.

"I'm sorry," I said quietly, staring at Harry's clean paper. "It really wasn't my business."

"On the contrary, what you did was absolutely correct. Although I dislike Mr. Potter, it was not right of me to take my anger out on him without solid proof," Severus said, taking a sip of coffee.

Before I could think the better of it, I blurted out, "Why _do_ you hate him so much?" As soon as the words had left my lips, I knew I had touched on a very sensitive subject. Severus' posture stiffened, and the corner of his mouth twitched slightly. Before he could say anything, I said quickly, "I'm so sorry. Once again, not my business…" and turned back to Harry's paper. I snuck a look from the corner of my eye and saw Severus was still gazing at me thoughtfully.

"Perhaps…" he began, then stopped. I looked up and met his stare. He smiled grimly. "Maybe another day." He went back to his essay.

Feeling like a nosy busybody, I also buried myself in work after giving Harry an eight. We worked in silence for over an hour. When the bell tolled two, Severus put down his quill and declared that if he didn't take a break, he would lose his mind. I agreed and gratefully stretched my cramped fingers. The more I thought about it, the more I wondered why I had chosen a profession where I would most likely be doing school work for the rest of my life. I mentioned this to Severus and asked why he had decided to become a professor.

"School was the only thing I did well in," he remarked simply. He stood and poured the last of the coffee into his cup.

"I find that hard to believe," I said. "I bet you were good at lots of things." Severus fixed me with his cold stare once more. I was certainly getting the impression his past was not something he liked to discuss. So I decided to change the subject and go for Operation Ask-Severus-Out-For-Christmas-Drinks.

"So, I was wondering," I began hesitantly, hooking my hair behind my ears. How exactly _was _I going to go about this? "Uh, yes, wondering… if you weren't engaged… engaged…"

_Oh my God…_

"I mean _busy_ tomorrow night, I thought, maybe, you might like to go get a drink or something like that…" I mentally hit myself over the head with a stick while Severus looked down at me curiously.

"Yes, I don't see why not," he said at last. But then, "Oh damn, I have to supervise Lockhart's little duelling club at eight…"

He did look genuinely sorry, so I said, "Lavinia wanted to meet me for coffee around eight. I don't mind hanging around in Hogsmeade afterwards until you're done. Maybe we could just meet at the Three Broomsticks whenever you're ready…" I waited anxiously for his response, hoping he hadn't been trying to let me down easily.

To my relief he gave a small smile, replied, "I should be done by nine," and took up his quill once more.

At five of eight the following night, I was trying to hurry down the flights of stairs from my rooms but ended up virtually swimming through tides of Gryffindor and Ravenclaw students headed down to the Great Hall for the duelling club. From the snippets of conversation I heard, it seemed everyone was incredibly excited, and I started to rather wish I would be around to watch it after all. Nevertheless, I continued on through the entrance hall and quickly spotted Lavinia waiting for me by the outside doors.

"Ready to go?" she called as she saw me approaching.

"I suppose," I replied. "Do you think this will be warm enough?" I asked and flapped my twill cloak pathetically.

"You'll be fine. Anyway, it's usually steaming hot inside Madam Puddifoot's. Let's go!"

I followed Lavinia through the front doors. A light snow was falling and dusting everything in sight, making the steps and cobblestones treacherous.

"Watch it!" Lavinia called out and grabbed my arm as I skidded a few inches on a patch of black ice. She laughed and said, "What we need are some of those spiky shoes Muggle footballers use!" We decided to link arms in case one of us slipped again. Although it was snowing, the air didn't seem that chilly except when a chance gust of wind bellowed by and whipped our cloaks around. The woods around us seemed eerily quiet after being accustomed to the constant noise of the castle.

As if reading my thoughts, Lavinia commented, "I hate coming down here on student weekends; everything is mobbed. It's much nicer when it's only adults. Honestly, working at Hogwarts all year makes you feel like your fellow professors are the only adults in existence."

By now we had passed the Hogsmeade station and were on the High Street. Even though it was rather late, the street was still filled with people socializing or taking advantage of the stores' late Christmas hours. Lavinia led the way down a side lane brightly lit up with holiday candles.

"This is it," she said, stopping in front of a quaint stoop under a sign with a large, flowery teacup on it. The shop had a large picture window, but it was impossible to see inside since it was completely fogged over. Lavinia opened the door, adorned with a wreath of bells that tinkled merrily. The shop was cramped but cozy and seemed to resemble an old spinster aunt's formal living room. There were fifteen or so small tables covered with lace runners and doilies. Shelves along the wall held colourful bags of tea and coffee for sale, while a large glass display stood to a side filled with delicious looking pastries.

"Shall we sit here?" Lavinia asked, pointing to a table near the window. We pretty much had the pick of the place since there were only two other parties in the shop: two young witches out for a girls' night like us and a middle-aged couple who were sneaking kisses behind their table's holly arrangement.

"This must be quite the date spot for students." I observed as I removed my cloak and draped it over the back of my chair.

Lavinia laughed derisively. "The main reason I come here on nights like this." We had just taken our seats when a portly little woman with curly black hair hurried over to take our orders.

"What can I get for you tonight, Professors?" she asked brightly. I felt a rush of pride when she said that and didn't bother to mention I wasn't _technically_ aprofessor yet.

I quickly read over the menu board behind the counter. "I'll have a peppermint mocha and a cranberry scone," I said. Madam Puddifoot nodded and looked to Lavinia.

"Just a French roast for me, please. Black."

Madam Puddifoot bustled away to fetch our drinks. I rubbed my sleeve against the foggy window and peered outside.

"The snow's really picking up," I commented loudly over the clamour of the coffee grinder.

"Well, we can head back as soon as we're done," Lavinia replied. I froze for a moment, realizing I hadn't thought of an excuse to shake off Lavinia later so I could meet Severus at the Three Broomsticks. I couldn't just tell her what I was doing; I had the definite feeling she would think I was insane. Still looking out the window, I saw two owls around the corner taking off from the direction of the post office. That gave me an idea.

"Actually," I said, turning back, "I think I might mail a letter to my mom while I'm down here. I need one of those over-seas owls. So you can just go back up to the castle if you want."

Lavinia shrugged her shoulders. "I can wait, if you like. Doesn't matter much to me."

"No, really, it will take a while to write the letter, and I think I might do a little Christmas shopping afterwards, too. You can just go ahead so you're not up too late."

"Dear Avrille, I'm the _Astronomy_ teacher! I'm used to being up late!" Lavinia laughed. "But, perhaps you're right. There are a few things I wanted to get done before bed… Not to mention I still have an absolute mountain of essays to mark."

I nodded in mutual understanding. "I bet. I was helping Professor Snape with his yesterday. We spent four hours at least, and there were still piles left."

Lavinia made a face. "I feel terrible for you; stuck in the dungeons with _him_ for four hours! Must just bore you to death!"

I gave a little non-committal shrug for a response. Nope, I was definitely not going to tell Lavinia where I was headed after this.

"Still," Lavinia continued on, "I have to admit he did turn out to be a rather nice dancer, and it was very classy of him to pry Lockhart off of you like that. I just don't know what drove him to do it… I mean, Severus doesn't dance at the Solstice Balls, at least not at the four or so I've seen since I started teaching here."

Just then Madam Puddifoot returned with our drinks, and I was able to hide my red face in my steaming mug. I had no idea Severus didn't dance at the balls. I had just assumed that he did once in a while. So what exactly _had _made him come dance with me?

"So, you mean, he's _never_ danced before?" I asked casually.

"Not once. He attends them for Dumbledore but just spends the whole time stalking after the students. I think I asked him to dance once or twice, just to be nice, but he always turned me down." She paused to blow on her coffee. "Can't imagine it was much better for you: Lockhart to Severus… Well, I suppose even though Severus is about as interesting as a wooden plank, he at least has manners."

"Yes…" I said offhandedly, lost in my own thoughts. Was there a remote chance Severus thought of me as more than just an apprentice? If he never danced whatsoever, why did he go to so much trouble to tell off Lockhart for being too familiar with me? Could he possibly have been jealous?

But then reality sunk back into my mind. After all we had spent countless hours alone over the term without one hint of any feeling beyond that of total professionalism. And everyone knew how much Severus hated Lockhart for taking the Defence Against the Dark Arts position, as well as making a veritable mockery of the class itself. It was much more likely that Severus cut in out of dislike for Lockhart than affection for me.

Having thoroughly depressed myself, I tuned back into Lavinia who was trying to ascertain my opinions on the latest skin creams.

"It's just that having to teach at midnight all the time really takes a toll on my complexion," she was musing.

After a few more minutes of shallow girl talk, Lavinia greatly surprised me by remarking, "It never ceases to amaze me how this place hasn't changed at all since _I _used to come here on Hogsmeade weekends…"

"You mean, you were a student here, too?" I asked, wondering how the subject had never come up before.

Lavinia gave one of her high, tinkling laughs. "Of course! Where else would I have gone, Beauxbatons!" I must have looked slightly embarrassed for Lavinia took my hand and said, "Oh, I'm sorry, Avrille! I forget that you have so many schools to choose from in Canada and America. Practically every professor here is a Hogwarts alum."

"So, did you have Professor Flitwick and Professor McGonagall as teachers?" I asked, completely fascinated.

"Yes, and I also had Pomona, though she had just started… and Pythagora, of course. Francis still had his own leg then as well, actually. But the Astronomy professor I had, bloody hell! I like to think of myself as a vast improvement on him!" Lavinia said with a playful flip of her hair.

Wanting to proceed cautiously, I asked, trying to sound aloof, "So you must have gone to school with Professor Snape as well then, right?"

Lavinia made a scoffing noise. "Well, yes, though he is a bit _older_ than me, you know. Let me see… He was already a fifth year when I entered, so I really didn't know much about who he was. Oh, except, of course, that he and James Potter were mad rivals for the Head Boy spot." Lavinia sipped her coffee while I stared out of the window.

Of course. It made so much sense now. Why hadn't I made the connection that Severus had placed second in his class behind James Potter, _Harry_ Potter's father? No wonder Severus hated Harry… He was the son of his schooldays rival!

Lavinia placed her empty cup down on the saucer and continued, "I remember everyone wondered how the race could even be so close; James was a perfect student, charming, handsome, _and _Captain of his Quidditch team. Severus was just this odd kid who had his head buried in books about the Dark Arts all the time. I remember I thought he was kind of creepy... But besides that, I didn't really meet him until I was hired here. Then I realized he wasn't creepy, just _dull as hell!_" Lavinia laughed again, and I faked a laugh as well. However, on the inside my heart was heavy for Severus. I knew what it was like to not fit in.

Since our drinks were finished, we rose to leave. Lavinia insisted on taking the bill, citing the fact that she was the only one of us with a paying job. I thanked her, and we stepped back out into the cold night, thoroughly warmed inside from the coffee. At the end of the alley, we parted. I made toward the post office, keeping Lavinia in sight discreetly. I stamped my feet outside the post office door, waiting until I saw her turn the bend leading to the station, then continued on toward the Three Broomsticks with my mind swimming.

The air had turned bitterly frigid while I had been in the coffee shop and seemed even more so as it began to seep into my skin through my light cloak. Bright lanterns hanging over door frames showed the snow to be falling even more heavily now in large, fat clumps of flakes. Fortunately, the tavern wasn't too far up the street from the post office for my feet and hands felt about ready to freeze solid. Before I could even see it through my white eyelashes, I heard the tavern's wooden sign banging in the wind. I scurried through the drifts and up to the door as the wind whipped off my hood, sending my hair streaming around my face. Keeping my cloak held tightly together with one hand, I pushed open the thick wooden door and was immediately hit with a pleasing wave of heat.

As I stepped over the threshold into the Three Broomsticks, I shook out my cloak vigorously, hurling clumps of snow onto the stone floor. The tavern was boisterously noisy as one would expect the week before a holiday. Most of the tables were filled with celebrating witches and wizards toasting with eggnog and mulled wine. A small group of musicians sat by the cavernous fireplace, their dizzying jig adding to the tumultuous atmosphere. An elderly couple was dancing madly to the tune. The witch's cheeks were flushed, and she glowed as though sixteen, her partner huffing but smiling nevertheless with a wreath of holly wound around the crown of his top hat. I couldn't help smiling as I entered that scene and found it very hard to stand still while the coat rack picked my cloak from my shoulders.

The air inside was almost oppressively hot after the outside chill, and a thin, bluish fog of pipe smoke gave everything a blurry edge. My eyes scanned for an empty table but were directed away when I heard a voice call out, "Miss Avrille!" in a cheery tone. Looking to my right, I saw Hagrid perched unsteadily on a bar stool, holding an ale mug the size of a small barrel. I made my way through the tables to him.

"Happy Christmas!" he said and raised his ale to me. "Can I buy yeh a drink?"

"Oh, thank you, Hagrid, but no. I'm meeting Professor Snape here in a little bit," I replied, overwhelmed by the yeasty smell emanating from the rivulets of ale running down Hagrid's incorrigible beard. Hagrid's face took on an enlightened expression at my words as though he had just put two and two together and realized it made four.

"Ah… Professor Snape's already here, and I daresay _he's_ started withou' yeh." He pointed to a table far away from most of the commotion surrounding the hearth. Puzzled, I looked in the direction of his finger just in time to see Severus put back a rather impressive shot of what appeared to be firewhisky before handing the empty glass to Madam Rosemerta, the barmaid.

"I see," I said. The edges of Hagrid's mouth were twitching.

"Seems ter be nervous about summat," Hagrid said, hiding his face once more in his immense tankard. I stood there for a moment, suddenly quite nervous myself. After all, meeting Severus in a bar for drinks really did sound like a _date,_ no matter how I tried to rationalize it…

"Snow's fallin' heavy," Hagrid remarked squinting through the caked windows. "Looks like a storm comin'." With a grunt he heaved himself from his stool and downed his ale with a last swig. "Goin' back ter the castle m'self now. I can send down a carriage fer yeh, if yeh like. Wouldn' want two of Hogwarts' greatest minds fallin' down and thumpin' their heads." Hagrid still seemed to be fighting back a smile.

"That would be great, thank you! Good night," I bade him before winding my way toward the back of the tavern, turning back once when Hagrid upset a table with a crash trying to manoeuvre through the crowded room. As I approached him, Severus rose to meet me.

"Good evening," he said and pulled a chair out for me. He was looking wonderful in a crisp white shirt and waistcoat of dove-grey. I had never seen him in "casual" clothing before and was very pleased with the result. The firewhisky had brought a flush to his normally pale face.

"I hope you haven't been waiting long. I didn't expect you would make it down here so soon," I said as I took my seat.

Severus settled beside me, rather stiffly, and signalled to Madam Rosemerta. "No, I just arrived a minute ago myself. There was a slight mishap with the duelling club, and we ended early."

Before I could ask what had happened, Madam Rosemerta came bustling over; I couldn't help rolling my eyes at how she swung her hips with every step.

"Yes, Professor, what can I get you?" She smiled warmly at Severus, as if I wasn't even there, and I had the urge to kick her in the shins. Severus looked to me to order first.

"Just a honey mead for me, please," I said as pleasantly as I could manage. Madam Rosemerta scribbled on her pad and turned her attention solidly back to Severus.

"Any specials?" he asked in the now familiar bored tone he used when speaking to students who annoyed him.

"Yes, we've added a new drink to the menu just this week: The Golden Gilderoy! Ginger ale and ginger beer with a golden cream float and a sugared rim; a favourite of Professor Lockhart himself!" she remarked delightedly, her bust swelling with pride to an almost indecent degree.

Severus stared at her with all seriousness for a beat before remarking dryly, "I'll have a scotch." Madam Rosemerta's face fell slightly, but she wrote down his order and flurried away. As soon as she was out of hearing range, Severus greatly surprised me by bursting out laughing. Seeing him laugh, I couldn't help but join in, and it was more than a minute before we were able to control ourselves. A table of old wizards near us kept glancing over with concerned expressions.

"I'm sorry," Severus said breathlessly, once he could speak again. "It's just that I really want to kill that man sometimes."

"Don't we all?" I muttered. We passed the next few minutes silently, the complete negative to our levity a moment before. Rosemerta returned with our drinks, and I sipped mine gratefully, glad to have something to do with my mouth and hands. Severus sampled his drink as well, his dark eyes settling more than once on me before flicking away.

Finding the silence unbearable, I asked, "What do you plan to do for the holiday?"

"Work, mainly," he replied, setting his drink down.

"You don't visit family, or friends, or anything?"

He studied me with steely eyes that chilled me despite the warmth of the tavern. "I don't have any family. At least, none who speak to me anymore. I find working during Christmas is best since I have little time for personal research during the term," he said, twirling the glass around with the tips of his fingers.

"That's terrible…" I said quietly and looked down at my lap. I didn't have much of a family myself, but I couldn't remember a Christmas when I was not with at least someone that I loved.

"Not really. I have a complicated past, Avrille." Severus had fixed his stare on me once more, and I hinted a sense of danger in his voice that was slightly frightening but also slightly exciting. But then, before I could ponder it, it was gone and he spoke in a lighter tone. "I've always been a solitary person by nature, so when I fell out with my family it really wasn't an issue with me. I am very happy with my present situation at Hogwarts." He hesitated as if considering something, his gaze fixed on the naked, splintery rafters above. "I… well…" he paused and looked at me once more. "Forgive my rudeness. How will you be spending your holiday? Do you have plans to return home?"

"No, I decided it would be too much trouble. I'll just be staying here, alone too." I realized my words might have sounded harsh, for at least I had a family who wanted to see me. However, it didn't seem to bother Severus, for he smiled and finished his drink.

After a minute he said slowly, "Well, perhaps, if you are not otherwise engaged Christmas we could… come here again."

My heart swelled at his words, but I quickly stifled it. _Stop reading into things,_ I thought. _He__ probably just feels sorry for you._

"That would be nice," I replied, hoping my face wasn't blushing as hot as it felt. Severus nodded and sat back in his chair with his arms folded. We didn't say anything more to each other. I finished my drink for lack of anything else to do and allowed Madam Rosemerta to sweep the glasses away.

Finally Severus said, "We should probably head back. The snow doesn't seem to be slowing."

I suddenly remembered Hagrid. "Oh, I forgot. Hagrid said he would send down a carriage for us. He figured a storm was coming and wanted to take precaution."

"Good of Hagrid," Severus said. I had never really heard him speak of Hagrid much before, and I did not know what sort of relationship they had. Hagrid seemed like the type of man whom Severus would disapprove of, but he had never hinted one way or the other to me.

I made to reach for my wallet, but Severus stopped me with a raised hand. He removed a dozen sickles from his waistcoat pocket, making me wonder if he was leaving a large tip or, more likely knowing Severus' disposition toward Madam Rosemerta, he had been drinking quite a bit more of firewhisky before I arrived. After stacking the coins neatly on the table, he stood. Well, stumbled up would be more accurate for he had to grip the table and almost fell back into his seat, making me realize that he was, in fact, _very_ drunk. However, that was the only indication, for he had spoken as coolly and evenly as always. Regaining his balance and composure, Severus moved aside to allow me room to rise. I followed him back through the maze of tables and revellers, glad that he didn't fall into anyone's lap.

At the door Severus reached for my cloak before I could and held it out for me. As he draped it lightly over my shoulders, his hands brushed against the sides of my neck, and I could not help but shiver. While he retrieved his own cloak, I tried unsuccessfully to look out the windows, which were now completely blocked up with snow. A faint draught whistled through the cracked sash, bringing with it the scent of ice and pine. Severus moved by me and opened the heavy oak door, spilling a mini avalanche of snow onto the tavern floor. I kicked at it as I passed through but was unsuccessful as pushing it back out. It looked like Madam Rosemerta would have a lot of mopping to do tonight, I realized with a smirk.

Outside the wind was howling shrilly, sending fat cold flakes into my eyes and hair. It was quickly becoming a blizzard and the visibility was horrible. I was very appreciative to see one of the Hogwarts coaches waiting a dozen yards down the lane. The poor thestral attached had a blanket of snow on its back already, but it stood immobile like a statue. Severus surprised me by gently taking my arm, of which I was thankful for I slipped more than once on our shuffled trek to the carriage. Severus had seemed to regain his sobriety miraculously, probably due to the cold shock of winter, and guided me steady and true. My heart pounded away like it had when we were dancing two nights ago, even though I knew he only wanted to prevent me from falling flat on my face.

When we reached the carriage, I could not help but trundle over to the thestral and brush the snow off its back with my cloaked arm. I only realized after the thestral was cleared off the implication of what I had done. Indeed, Severus was studying me keenly with a mixture of surprise and what seemed like concern on his face. I had no idea if he could see the thestral at all; indeed the greater population probably couldn't. But something in his look told me he could and was disturbed that I could as well.

"Sorry," I muttered as he opened the door for me. I clambered rather ungracefully inside and moved to the window, hoping with a girlish wish that Severus might sit next to me. At the very least it would help to dispel the memory of the last time I had ridden in a Hogwarts coach four months ago sandwiched quite unhappily between Hagrid and the ever-fragrant Professor Lockhart. To my delight Severus stepped in beside me, pulling the door shut with a scatter of tiny ice flakes. Like Hagrid had, he knocked twice on the wall behind us, and the coach took off.

We sat in silence for a while until Severus asked simply, "Who was it?" I knew immediately to what his question pertained.

"My father," I whispered and looked down at my hands which were red and stinging from my lack of gloves. I could feel Severus' gaze weigh down on me and heard him sigh quietly, but he asked me no more. The carriage bumped and slipped over the snowy road, throwing Severus and me together more than once.

"You're cold," he said suddenly. It must have been obvious, even though I was determinedly trying to control my shivers. But the coach offered no warmth, and my cloak was unsuitable for a storm such as this.

Then, I could hardly believe it, Severus gently took my hands in his, massaging them slightly. His hands were burning hot as though he had a fever; indeed, he had an almost feverish look in his grey eyes as he stared deeply into mine. I was transfixed by his gaze. I felt as though under the sweetest of spells, unable to say or think anything that was not the will of the man who was slowly bringing his face nearer. He moved one of his hands from mine and cupped my cheek with it, wrapping his fingers in the damp tendrils of my hair. I dared not breathe, afraid that this moment was a waking dream and a single movement of mine would chase it away like the crystals of ice flying by our window. I closed my eyes, dying for his lips to touch mine. He was so close I felt the tips of his hair brush my chin and could smell the sweetness of the alcohol on his breath.

But the coach stopped suddenly signalling our arrival, and the lurch parted us for an instant in which the moment was lost. We fell back into our respective places and held a silence. Then Severus opened the door and stepped down, holding out a hand to help me exit. Gripping his hand, I descended onto the slippery cobblestones and was about to say something, I'm not sure what, when a frantic voice called out to me, "Oh, Avrille! Just the person I needed!" I dropped Severus' hand like a hot coal and turned to see Professor Sprout huffing and puffing toward us with her arms full of a hodgepodge of knitting.

She stopped in front of me, her ample bosom heaving, and gasped, "Oh, I'm so glad I found you. I'm heading out to outfit the mandrakes with some winter wear. This storm just has me worried so. Of course Filius was kind enough to place a new Shielding Charm on the hothouse glass, but we just can't be too careful with those mandrakes now they are so desperately needed." She stopped for a moment and looked at Severus, just noticing he was there was well. She looked back and forth between the two of us a couple of times but then continued in her breathless rush, "So are you coming? You're not busy, I assume?"

"No!" I gasped, probably much too loudly and obviously, "No, I'm not busy. Not at all. I'd be glad to help."

"Well, follow me then," Professor Sprout said. "Good night, Severus," she said with a nod and trotted off in the direction of the hothouses.

I remained next to Severus for a moment, reluctant to leave him. He had me fixed in his intense stare once more and it rooted me to the spot. "Right, well, good night," he said finally then headed toward the castle steps. I breathed an enormous sigh before shuffling my way through the snow after Professor Sprout.

The going was fairly easy for it seemed like Professor Sprout had melted a path ahead of her with her wand, so I soon caught up. My heart was still hammering and my mind still hadn't fully comprehended what had just taken place in the coach. I stood impatiently behind Professor Sprout as she unlocked hothouse three and stamped my feet trying to keep warm. After she opened the door, Professor Sprout waved her wand to light the place up, exposing several rows of surly-looking "tween" mandrake plants. They were buried past their noses to prevent their deadly screaming, but those exposed eyes glowered and glared with every measure of pre-pubescent angst they could produce.

"Right," Professor Sprout said and dropped her armful onto a nearby empty table. She divided the pile in two, one for me and one for her, and started to wrap a blue and white knit scarf around the nearest mandrake, which shook its leaves angrily. One could almost imagine it saying, "I don't _need_ that! It's not even _cold_ out!" Nevertheless, Professor Sprout wriggled a matching woolly hat over its leaves which seemed to weigh it down so much it couldn't fight any more. Pulling on a spare pair of dragon-hide gloves just in case, I followed her example and gently wound scarves around the mandrakes who returned the favour by blinking furiously. I had to admit the mandrakes were sort of cute like this, all helpless and bundled up. They looked just like someone's ugly little children going out to play in the snow.

When the last mandrake was wrapped and capped, Professor Sprout extinguished the light. We made our way back to the castle through the melted path, which was already accumulating a layer of snow once more. We said our good nights at the entrance hall, and I breathed a sigh of relief that she hadn't asked any questions about Severus and me being in the carriage together.

I had really meant to go to bed, but without being able to control the impulse, I found myself walking quickly down to the dungeons. It was quite late now, the portraits around me all snoring contentedly, but I was not surprised when I arrived at Severus' office and saw a light flickering through the crack under the door. I stood outside shifting my weight from one foot to the other, waging war with myself whether or not I should just knock and see what he was up to since he didn't seem like he was ready to go to bed either. Then I tried to imagine what I would say if I did knock, and I was face to face with him once more so soon after the almost-kiss. I mean, what if he had already forgotten it? It was possible he had been so drunk when we left the tavern that he had no idea what he was doing. I chewed on my thumbnail considering that depressing thought. With yet another sigh, this one of resignation, I quickly left the dungeons before I did anything stupid like throwing open the door and running into his arms.

The castle was so eerily quiet that I shivered despite myself. I could almost feel something sinister in the air, although couldn't find anything specific to pin the feeling on. Practically running, I dashed up the three flights of stairs to my rooms and shut the door fast behind me, then bolted it. I leaned against the door out of breath and tried to make myself laugh. After all, there hadn't been any sort of attack in well over a month, and I was most likely safe coming from a pure-blood wizarding family. But something in the corridors just then had felt so… off. I couldn't place the feeling, but it had felt like the air was pulsing in expectation. I gave my head a quick shake and pushed off from the door.

My fireplace was lit already, and I stood in front of it while changing into a nightgown. My thoughts kept wandering to Severus… how warm his hands had been… the dark fire in his eyes. Somehow I felt better knowing he was awake right now too, as though he could frighten away whatever was troubling me if I needed him to. Exhausted from the long eventful night, I climbed gratefully under my down comforter and pulled it up to my chin. Outside the snow was falling heavier than ever and was blowing practically horizontally by the frosted windows. Even with thoughts of Severus still streaming through my mind, I quickly fell asleep.

I slept soundly until sometime in the early morning. I know this because I remember waking up just as the four o'clock bell had finished tolling. After falling back asleep, I dreamt I was walking alone down one of the school's deserted corridors like I had been a few hours before. All around me I heard a high-pitched, hysterical laughter, and I covered my ears with my hands to try and block it out. Suddenly it stopped as I turned a corner. Standing in front of me was Justin Finch-Fletchley, an amiable Hufflepuff second year who often talked with me when I observed his Herbology lessons with the Gryffindors. He was smiling, but I saw that a thick green snake was coiling itself around his neck, choking him with its weight. I ran toward him, but he held up a hand in a motion for me to stay away.

"Please don't worry," he said to me in a very clear voice. "Would you tell Professor Sprout I won't be able to hand in my mandrake essay on time?" he asked then collapsed to the floor. As he hit the stones, the snake vanished. I knelt by his side and brushed his long curly hair from his face. He was still smiling, but it was a grotesque sight for he was completely petrified with his eyes wide open and glassy. I bent over him and cried, my tears falling into his unblinking eyes.

I must have awoken with a scream for the air seemed to echo around me as I lay in bed with the sun streaming through the windows onto my face. I rolled over onto my stomach hugging a pillow, trying to dispel the horrifying dream from my mind. I supposed that's what I got for drinking coffee and beer so late at night…

I thought of Severus instead and smiled, but then started to feel panicky at the thought of seeing him today. I couldn't deny that we were quickly finding ourselves in an increasingly awkward situation. I didn't even know if it was allowed for staff members to be involved with each other, and I wasn't even a full-fledged staff member at all. I rose and looked out the window to a world blanketed in waves of rolling white purity. A brisk wind still blew and sent curtains of snow swirling off the rooftops and towers. I leaned my feverish forehead against the cool glass, wondering what on earth I was going to do.


	18. Chapter Eighteen:  SEVERUS

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

_Severus_

I knew the moment Avrille and I parted at the carriage I would not sleep at all even if I tried. Therefore, I was determined to work all night to catch up on my marking and try to drive the incredibly rash act I had almost committed from my mind. Of course, I knew that was not going to be easy, and thoughts of Avrille so tormented me I found it impossible to concentrate on anything. This included the pathetically simple pain-relieving draught I had been trying to brew to dispel the pounding headache threatening to incapacitate me. I finally stopped for a moment after the second botched attempt burned a hole in one of my better cauldrons. I sat at my desk and stared at the mountain of reports that still needed filling out before the last official day of term, which was only two days away. But my mind would not let me think of anything but Avrille and how she had received my foolish advances willingly, without any of the protest or indignation I had expected a split second before actually going for it.

I just hadn't been able to control myself; she had looked so vulnerable and sorrowful. I couldn't help but want to ease her suffering, comfort her. Of course, throwing myself at her probably wasn't the best course of action, I realised painfully now. But those damned shots of firewhisky before she arrived at the tavern had made me overly self-confident, and I had started to interpret signs from her to mean something slightly different than before. Of course, I _was_ roaring drunk and probably just seeing what I wanted to believe… but maybe not. After all, she hadn't pulled away from me when I tried to kiss her…

I shook my befuddled head, still pounding like the inside of the great Hogwarts bell-tower, which had just sounded midnight. Gathering my wits, I attempted the relieving potion once more and completed it with perfection. A cupful of that instantly set my head right, and I sat back down at my desk to tackle the tottering stack of mid-term essays from my O.W.L. students. Reading and correcting had the therapeutic result I had hoped for, and after a while I was able to push Avrille to a corner of my mind and concentrate on work.

I worked through the night to finish the essays, but at last, at seven o'clock in the morning, I was done and set my quill down. Of course, I then realised how irresponsible I had been staying up like that when I had to teach in the morning, so I headed back to my rooms for a nap before my class with the first year Slytherins and Gryffindors started at eleven. I would be sorry to miss Avrille at breakfast, but it was probably wise to rest up before trying to embark upon _that _issue.

The first years' lesson passed uneventfully; fortunately, that class held no troublesome students like those who seemed to permeate the upper ranks, namely Longbottom, Potter, and the three youngest Weasley brothers. I did notice, however, that Ginny Weasley was absent once again, and I made a mental note to stop by the hospital wing later and ask Madam Pomfrey about her. She had been looking increasingly withdrawn over the past few weeks. She was a decent student, so it warranted my attention.

The class had been so quiet, I realised later, because of the thinness of the Gryffindor side. Along with Miss Weasley and the few students out with flu, Colin Creevy was missing, still petrified in the hospital wing. I knew Avrille worried about him greatly and had visited him more than once, even though she knew it was completely pointless given his frozen state.

Since the class had managed to brew their Forgetfulness Potions so well, I released them a couple minutes early to the frigid air outside the steaming classroom. After straightening and tidying up manually, which I admit was an attempt to stall leaving the dungeons themselves, I walked briskly up the dungeon stairs, determined to speak with Avrille over lunch.

The hallways were oddly deserted for it being break time, but I continued on to the Great Hall nevertheless. When I entered through the staff door in the back, I saw only Pythagora and Pomona present for the teachers and only a handful of students were seated beneath us, all wearing confused expressions as to the lack of food.

I walked quickly over to my fellow professors and asked, "What's going on?"

"I haven't the foggiest," Pythagora said with a shrug, looking as puzzled as me.

"My Herbology classes were cancelled due to the snow," Pomona added. "I've just been checking on the mandrakes once more."

I was about to leave and find Minerva when she herself hurried into the hall, clutching her wand so tightly her knuckles were white.

"Oh, Professors," she gasped, placing her free hand over her heart. "There has been another attack. Please follow me to the staffroom. The headmaster wishes to address us all there." Then she turned to the small clusters of students around the hall and ordered them all back to their dormitories where lunch would be brought to them and to stay there until further notice.

Pomona, Pythagora, and I all dashed back through the corridors after Minerva to the staffroom. Upon entering I saw it was completely filled with all the staff members who had been missing from the hall, including three of the four House ghosts (the Grey Lady, the Fat Friar, and the Bloody Baron) as well as Argus Filch. Filch was dabbing his eyes with an old stained handkerchief, seemingly reminded once more of the attack on his cat, Mrs Norris. Everyone was muttering amongst themselves, except Avrille, who was sitting alone in the back looking very small and frightened. I moved to stand near her but dared not offer any comfort in such a crowded atmosphere. Minerva refused to give any more information, citing the desire to wait for Dumbledore himself. The air was very tense. Only a few teachers seemed to the identity and condition of the victim, and they remained in silent contemplation. I looked to Filius, but he just shook his head and buried his face in his hands. Avrille was staring straight ahead at nothing. When I was sure no one was looking, I gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. She looked up at me and smiled, making me feel light-headed. Just then Dumbledore blew into the room, his voluminous robes billowing around him. I quickly dropped my hand from Avrille's shoulder.

"Please be seated," Dumbledore said with a great sigh. Having no place else near, I sat next to Avrille on the old divan and waited for Dumbledore to speak. He Conjured up a comfortable looking armchair and slowly sank into it.

"As you have undoubtedly heard, there has been another attack this afternoon." Dumbledore paused, looked at Pomona, then announced, "Justin Finch-Fletchley." Pomona cried aloud and covered her mouth with her hand. Finch-Fletchley belonged to her House as a Hufflepuff.

Pomona's loud exclamation had covered a much softer one from Avrille beside me so that no one but I heard it. I looked aside at her and to my alarm saw her face had blanched as white as the snow on the outside windowpanes. I had never seen anyone pale as quickly or severely before. Even her lips had gone grey and deep shadows rimmed her eyelids. I discreetly placed my hand over hers, and she looked to me in absolute terror. She was trembling slightly yet gripped my hand with surprising force. However, no one else noticed since all eyes were fixed solidly on Dumbledore. He continued while Lavinia comforted Pomona who was now silently sobbing.

"Fortunately, Justin was only petrified, along with Sir Nicholas who was found floating near him. As Sir Nicholas is already a ghost, he is in no peril that I can see. He has been moved to an empty classroom, and Justin has been taken to the infirmary where Madam Pomfrey is tending to him." The three ghosts present were shaking their heads and murmuring together. Pomona looked very relieved to hear Justin was alive and began fanning her face trying to dry her tears.

"Where did the attack take place?" I asked, after releasing Avrille's hand with effort. Her grip was like a vice.

"Just outside my Transfiguration room," Minerva answered solemnly. She looked suddenly to Dumbledore for what seemed to be permission for something, and he nodded slightly to her. "Peeves found Harry Potter kneeling beside Finch-Fletchley and sounded the alarm."

I couldn't keep myself from scoffing. "And so, once again, Potter is at the scene of an attack before anyone else! I can't be the only one who finds that highly suspicious." Indeed, a few professors muttered agreement, but Dumbledore fixed me solidly with his clear blue eyes.

"I have talked to Mr Potter, and I do not believe he is in any way involved with these attacks. Furthermore, Hagrid informed me that he had spoken to Harry moments before the attack occurred and could not have committed it in such a short time. I believe them both."

"But last night during the duelling match, everyone saw Potter speaking Parseltongue to the Conjured snake that just happened to be heading straight at Finch-Fletchley," I argued.

"I believe them both," Dumbledore repeated. This silenced all extraneous muttering and, I hated to admit, forced me to put the matter to rest in my mind as well. However, I knew _something_ strange connected Potter to these attacks. He confirmed these feelings even more so last night when he suddenly spoke Parseltongue without ever informing the school of being party to that very singular gift. I just didn't know what the connection was.

"What shall we do with the students?" Minerva asked to break the tension hanging heavily in the air.

Dumbledore sighed once more and rested his chin on steepled fingers. "If this attack follows the pattern of the previous two, the students should be in no danger for the present time. I suspect that today's events will convince more students than before to return home for the holiday, which will benefit us all. The Heads of Houses," he said, looking in turn to Minerva, Pomona, Filius, and myself, "shall go to their House common rooms once this meeting is finished and explain the situation to their students. I would recommend posting a new sign-up list for students who wish to leave the castle for Christmas."

Dumbledore paused for a moment with his bright eyes focused on the faded Oriental rug in front of him. "For those of you who are remaining here for holiday, all I can ask for is a heightened diligence. Anything curious or out of the ordinary is to be reported to me immediately. Unless we are able to determine the perpetrator of these attacks, I will be forced to close the school indefinitely." At these words several professors shook their heads in displeasure, and Avrille sought out my hand once more. Dumbledore stood and Vanished his chair. "That will be all," he said in a grave voice. "Heads, please see to your Houses."

The teachers filed out silently through the staffroom doors, the ghosts simply sailing through the panelled walls. I rose and followed Avrille to leave the staffroom, but she stopped suddenly and nodded for me to continue on. I exited through the door but remained just outside so I could speak with her. When she failed to emerge after a minute, I looked through the crack of the ajar door and saw Avrille standing by the fireplace with tears streaming down her cheeks. Pain contorted her fair face as she struggled to take shallow, shuddering breaths. Unable to stand there just watching, I knocked quietly on the door and stepped back into the staffroom.

Avrille started at the sound. She turned to face the wall while furiously wiping her eyes clear with shaking hands. I walked up to her, torn between whether or not it would be better to leave her alone with her grief. I guessed Avrille thought I had left and had the feeling my reappearance had embarrassed her.

"Are you all right?" I asked Avrille quietly as she stood trembling in front of me. She nodded but her eyes were looking down at the hardwood floor, unfixed and unblinking.

"I have to go address my House," I said stupidly. Avrille's gaze suddenly shot up to mine with such pleading and anguish I could not breathe.

"Can I stay with you?" she begged and grabbed my arm. Although I was flattered by her sudden desire to be with me, I could not enjoy it given her intensely troubled state. I suspected something besides worry for one of the students was behind her agitation.

"Of course," I said as gently as I could. "Why don't you come wait in my office while I speak to my students. Then we can talk if you want." This seemed good enough for her, so she accompanied me down to the dungeons, leaning on me slightly as she walked as though she could not stand up on her own. I left her reluctantly in my office, lighting a good blaze and assuring her I would lock the door.

My heart heavy and my mind spinning, I set off down the twisting dungeon passageways to the Slytherin common room. A cold draught blustered through the corridors, and I pulled my robes more tightly around myself. After descending the two winding staircases, I stopped in front of the section of wall I knew so well. I murmured, "pure-blood," the current Slytherin password, with more than a little bit of a sick feeling in my stomach. Although I had to admit I used to agree with the basic teachings of Salazar Slytherin, keeping magical instruction within pure-blood families, I could never condone attacking any innocent person, be them pure-blood, Muggle, or Muggle-born.

The common room was packed with students of all years huddled in groups and sharing rumours of the latest attack. I noticed a distinctly different feeling in the air than I'm sure was being felt in the other three House common rooms at that moment. It was almost gleeful. Draco Malfoy was sitting like a prince on a throne in the tall-backed, ebony armchair by the fire. I remembered that used to be a favourite spot of mine to do homework. However, I was never popular like Malfoy, who was currently surrounded by all of his fellow second years and telling some sort of story that was drawing excited screeches of glee from the girls present, especially Miss Parkinson.

Of course I knew Lucius was bringing his only son up to be a true heir of Slytherin House. It aggravated me beyond explanation to be teaching Lucius' son at a time when everyone knew the Dark Lord was trying to find a way to come back to life. These past two years, I had been forced to tread lightly around Draco, betraying nothing inappropriate that could lead Lucius to believe his former Death-Eater companion had been secretly aiding Dumbledore during those vital months before the Dark Lord's downfall. If any of the Death-Eaters ever found out I was a traitor…

The room hushed significantly when I entered, and Malfoy's harem scattered. I waited for complete silence as over fifty pairs of shining eyes turned towards me, thirsting for information.

"As you have undoubtedly already heard," I began once I had the full attention of every student, "there has been another attack this afternoon. Justin Finch-Fletchley of Hufflepuff and Sir Nicholas have both been petrified." I paused as an undercurrent of excited twitters hummed through the room. Realising I wouldn't continue until their chattering had ceased, the students quickly quieted themselves once more. "Since no one yet has any clues as to the nature of these attacks, Headmaster Dumbledore is encouraging any student who is able to return home for Christmas-"

"What, with entertainment like this to be had?" Draco called out. Most of the Slytherins sniggered.

"That will do, Mr Malfoy," I said in a warning tone, and Draco contented himself with a pleased smirk. "I will be posting another sign-up sheet on my office door for any student who wishes to return on the Hogwarts Express Wednesday. Until then, students are encouraged to avoid any unnecessary wandering of the corridors until further notice. And, of course, if any student has any information that could shed light on these attacks, he or she is expected to convey it to a teacher immediately." A flood of smiles was the only response I received from these words, which was basically what I had expected. The thought of a Slytherin student hindering the work of "Slytherin's Heir" was absolutely ludicrous, and the students knew that as well as I. Still, I felt it my duty to say _something._

"Classes have been cancelled for the remainder of the day," I concluded, "and you are to remain in the dormitory until dinner to avoid getting in the way of staff who are conducting searches." With that, I turned promptly from the room, slightly sickened at the mind-set of a quarter of the students at Hogwarts. However, I pushed those thoughts to the far corners of my mind and turned instead to worry for Avrille. I hurried as quickly as I could back to my office, setting the torches flickering with the speed of my passing. I stopped outside my door for a moment to compose myself then thrust my wand at the handle. The locked clicked open, and the door swung ajar to reveal Avrille huddled next to the fire just as I had left her. She looked up with a weak smile as I entered, her face tear-stained.

"I'm sorry," she said as she sat up a little straighter in the chair, "I must be inconveniencing you with the school being in such a state."

I looked down at her with disbelief. I had imagined my actions last night would have given her a hint as to my feelings towards her and been an assurance that I would rather be nowhere but here. I moved a desk chair near her and sat down.

"Of course not," I said reassuringly. "Can I get anything for you? A glass of water or some wine, perhaps?"

Avrille shook her head, making her hair spill down over her shoulders. "No, really, I'm fine. It's happened before, and it will probably happen again. It's just been so long… I was unprepared." Avrille stared down at her hands, leaving me puzzled by her mysterious statement.

"Do you mean the attacks? They are obviously upsetting, there's nothing to be ashamed about," I said, leaning forward in my chair.

"No, it's not just the attacks." She fidgeted a little and seemed uncomfortable. "I've never told _anyone_ this… You'll probably think me strange." Avrille paused again, as though debating whether or not to continue. Finally, she said quietly, "When I was younger, I would often have dreams of events that would later come to pass."

"Well, that's not very strange at all," I said. "Does your family have any Seers in it?"

"No, that's why it's strange," Avrille replied. "Absolutely no one in my family has ever exhibited any ability of foresight whatsoever. I thought perhaps I had grown out of it… It's been years since I saw anything… But, I can't deny what I dreamt last night _was_ a vision… and… I'm scared." She bowed her head making her hair rush forward like tumbling satin.

I sat back in my chair for a moment. If Avrille believed herself to have had some sort of vision last night relating to the attack on Justin Finch-Fletchley, it would certainly explain why she had broken down when she had heard about it. "What exactly _did_ you dream?" I asked.

Avrille did not look up, but her voice came from behind her hair, "I dreamt I saw Justin Finch-Fletchley with a snake around his neck. He said something to me… And then he fell over petrified, just like how he was found this afternoon."

"But perhaps that's just a coincidence. After all, everyone saw the Conjured snake go after Finch-Fletchley at the duelling club last night. Maybe you were just thinking of that when you fell asleep and, with the use of hindsight, you're now interpreting the dream as referring to today's attack," I suggested.

Avrille shook her head fiercely and looked up at me with eyes that burned with their desperation. "But that's impossible since I didn't see that duelling match, remember? I was in Hogsmeade the whole night before I met you at the Three Broomsticks. I didn't even know about any Conjured snake until you mentioned it to Professor Dumbledore just now."

"Of course," I muttered and passed a hand over my eyes. I had forgotten Avrille had not been at the duelling club, which was a shame since I imagine she would have enjoyed seeing me send Lockhart flying across the room…

Avrille rose with a noise of frustration and started pacing in front of the fire with her hands covering her mouth and nose. I stood and took her gently by the shoulders, looking down at her.

"You shouldn't blame yourself," I said, "and if you do possess some form of the Sight, then you should be proud, not frightened of it. Perhaps someday you could use it for good-"

"Some good it did Justin!" she cried out. I felt a burst of energy pass through me, and the fire flared suddenly. I took an involuntary step back. Hot tears of anguish streamed down Avrille's face. Her shoulders were shaking as I took them once more. Avrille spun and broke my hold. She started to pace again while raking and twisting her fingers through her hair. "I could have done something!" she shouted hysterically. "I could have warned him! I had the vision, but I didn't do anything about it! Justin could have been fine and in class right now! _It's all my fault!_"

Four glass jars over the fireplace shattered. Ignoring the mess, I closed the space between us in two strides and took her in my arms. Avrille sobbed violently against my chest and bore into my shoulders with her fingernails.

"It was _not_ your doing," I said emphatically into her hair. "There is only one person at fault, and that is whoever is committing these attacks. How were you to know your dream last night was a vision? You said yourself you hadn't had one in years."

Avrille shook her head and wrapped her arms around my neck. By now my pulse was racing, and I was questioning what I had gotten myself into. However, I kept holding her as she cried, guiltily savouring the warm press of her body against mine and wondering if she would have done this to anyone who tried to comfort her. After a few minutes, Avrille grew quiet but remained holding me tightly.

A quick rap sounded at the door. Avrille virtually jumped backwards, almost upsetting the chair behind her. Feeling rather as though we had been caught in an improper situation, I motioned for Avrille to stand back near the fireplace so she wouldn't be seen. I opened the door to reveal Minerva, looking just as harried as before.

"Severus, I'm glad I found you," she said. She was holding a roll of parchment in her hand which she unfurled as she continued, "The headmaster wishes for staff members to patrol the corridors these next few nights as a safety precaution. I was wondering if you wouldn't mind taking Christmas Eve. You don't have any plans, I presume?" Minerva eyed me inquisitively, knowing full well I never did anything on Christmas.

I cleared my throat. "No, that will be fine."

"Then if you could take the dungeons through the second floor from ten o'clock to half past two in the morning..." Minerva pulled a quill from her sleeve and jotted down a few notes before remarking, "Have you seen Mistress Asphodel? I checked her office, but she wasn't there."

"I believe she returned to her rooms to rest," I lied. "It appears this afternoon has upset her." Well, at least that part was true.

"Poor girl. If you happen to speak with her, will you ask if she would be willing to take a patrol shift? We really need all the help that's available."

"Yes, of course." With a curt nod, Minerva turned and hurried away. I closed the door, staring for a moment at the iron latch, listening to Minerva's clacking steps fade into the distance.

Turning back to Avrille, I said, "I'll speak to the headmaster about that. I'm sure he will excuse you."

Avrille's expression clouded, her eyebrows knitted together. "Why would you do that? I'm ready to help. I need to do _something_."

"I know you feel like you have to compensate for your vision, but I just don't think patrolling the castle at night would be the safest thing for you." I felt a twinge of guilt bringing up her magical problems, something I always tried to avoid so she never felt inferior to the rest of us. And perhaps deliberately counselling against the deputy-headmistress' instructions, wholly motivated by personal feelings instead of the students' best interests, was completely over-stepping my authority, but I did not care. There was no chance I was going to allow Avrille to be in any more danger than absolutely necessary.

Avrille's face darkened as I said this. For a moment I thought her eruptive anger would return, but then her shoulders and head sagged as though burdened by some insurmountable weight.

"I'm just completely useless, then, aren't I?" Avrille sank back into the armchair and stared vacantly into the fire. I can't even describe the intense yearning I felt to hold her again, but I knew that the time when that action could hold any semblance of comradely concern had past.

Instead, I moved to lean against my desk and offered, pathetically, "I'm sure that Professor Dumbledore can find some other way for you to contribute to the safety of the students." Avrille gave me a patronizing eyebrow raise then stood to leave. I couldn't let that be the last thing I said to her after she had trusted me with her confidence. I just couldn't let her leave like that because…

I loved her.

As soon as the thought flashed through my mind, I knew it was true. Despite my hardest efforts to keep a professional distance and protect myself, it had all been a lost cause. I loved Avrille more desperately than I had ever loved anyone in my entire life.

As she walked by me to open the door, I reached out and touched her hand.

"Perhaps it's not my business, but I sense there is something else behind all of this, something that is hurting you deeply." Avrille didn't say anything, her eyes focused on her right hand clasping the door latch. Her fingers that touched mine were trembling slightly. When she did not reply after a few moments, I dropped my hand to break our connection. "I just want you to know that…" _I love you. Just say it. Say it. I love you. I can't endure seeing you suffer like this_. "…if there's anything I can do to help you…"

"I really will be all right. I think I will go rest for a while, though." Avrille opened the door.

"If you feel like you need to talk more, please don't hesitate. My door will always be open for you, day or night."

"Thank you," she replied with a small smile and left.

I sat at my desk, feeling utterly wretched.

_No, Avrille. I'm the one who is useless. Useless for being unable to ease your suffering._


	19. Chapter Nineteen: AVRILLE

CHAPTER NINETEEN

_Avrille_

After I had totally embarrassed myself in Severus' office, I returned to my rooms and immediately jumped into bed. I rolled over onto my side, pulling the down comforter up over my head. In the quasi-darkness I could just barely make out my hand resting on the pillow in front of my eyes, my useless wand held tight in my fist. Well, I suppose the wand was probably perfectly functional. It was rather hard to tell when the only thing I was ever able to get out of it was a feeble Lumos spell every third try. No, it was I who was useless, and no matter what Severus said to the contrary, today had confirmed it once and for all. What was the point of having prophetic visions if I never knew to act on them?

I heard Caligula yowl plaintively, then felt the impact of his strong paws as he jumped up onto the bed. Purring maniacally, he climbed over the pillow and shoved his nose under the blanket, checking to make sure I was ok. After sniffing my face and finding no more tears, he wriggled under the blanket and curled up against my stomach. I ran my fingers over his silky fur while thoughts whirled through my mind.

Before this afternoon with Severus, I had told no one in the world about my dreams. When I was a child, I had thought that my dreams _caused_ the bad things to happen, so I never told my parents out of fear I would be punished. The first time I can remember it happening I must have been about four years old. I remember I dreamt something to do with my father's dog knocking over my fish bowl. The next morning, it happened; except the dog ate the fish as well. I remember crying all day, and my mother trying to comfort me by saying, "It's alright. We'll buy you a new fish," while I vehemently shook my head. No, I knew that I had already killed one. I wouldn't risk the life of another pet. I didn't know exactly what was going on, but I knew I was scared.

The dreams continued steadily as I grew. Every night before bed, I would chant to myself, "Please let the dreams go away. Please let the dreams go away." Often when I dreamt of an event happening in a certain place, I tried my best to avoid that place for as long as I could. Sometimes this kept the events from unfolding. Either that, or that dream had just been a normal one and could not come true to begin with. It was just so hard to tell. When I was older, say eight or nine, I started to understand that I was not the one causing the things in my dreams to come true. By then, I had heard of Seers and Prophets who predicted the future all the time. But, for some reason, I still hid my visions from my parents.

After my father was killed, the dreams stopped. I suppose it must have had something to do with my magic going away as well, but I honestly couldn't remember a whole lot from that time. But now, all of a sudden, I was having visions again. If I stopped and thought logically, I knew Severus was right about being too hard on myself. These things, like the attack on Justin, were going to happen whether I dreamed about them or not. I could only do the best I could manage.

I sat up in bed and flung the comforter from me, making Caligula growl for a moment for disturbing his nap. Now upright, I noticed for the first time that there was a tray of tea sitting on the table across from me near the door. Pinky must have brought it in while I was buried in bed. I could smell the sweet-smelling herbal infusion from where I sat: chamomile for relaxation and ginger root to raise spirits. I had not sent for tea, so someone must have ordered it for me who knew I had been upset.

I got out of bed to investigate. It was a simple spread; the pot, cup, tea caddy, and utensils all in shining silver with delicate scalloped edges. There was a dish in the center covered with a green linen napkin. I lifted the napkin and smiled at what I saw: an entire plate of Honeydukes' chocolate biscuits. I looked at the green napkin in my hand. Green and silver.

_Severus._

He had been so wonderful to me in his office, even though as my supervisor, he had no duty to console me. I knew everyone was wrong about him. He was deeply caring and understanding, and it made me love him even more. I clutched the napkin against my cheek as I felt tears starting to flow once more. I loved him so fiercely that it just hurt so much. I sat at the table and had a good cleansing cry.

It was beyond unfair. If Severus was anyone else in the castle or village I wouldn't care and declare my love no matter what other people might think of me. I didn't like having to bottle up feelings. Better to get it all out, and if I was rejected, well, at least I had an answer and could move on. But the way that things were arranged with Severus, I couldn't even do that. When it came down to it, he was as much my teacher right now as he was to the students. I had been preparing for this apprenticeship my entire academic life. To confess my love to Severus would accomplish nothing. I would be risking my entire future career for the slimmest chance that he might have serious feelings for me. Sure he had tried to kiss me the previous night, but that really proved nothing. He had been drunk. And, even if he did love me, I couldn't live with myself if I was the cause of a scandal that could potentially cost Severus his job.

It was no use… I would have to suck it up and get through the next six months no matter how much pain I was in. Perhaps once I completed my apprenticeship, I could consider speaking to Severus about the way I felt about him; maybe after enough time had passed so as not to cast any suspicion over either of our work ethics. I had been through tough times before. I would survive this.


	20. Chapter Twenty: SEVERUS

CHAPTER TWENTY

_Severus_

The attack on Mr Finch-Fletchley could not have come at a worse time in the year. End of term marks were due in the headmaster's office the day after at midnight. Fortunately, I would not be required to take a night patrol shift until Christmas Eve, allowing me just enough time to finish the last of my correcting.

The time right before Christmas also required an extra duty of me. In a few days, it would be the anniversary of my mother's death. Every year on the twenty-third of December, I returned to my home in the south of Britain to tend my mother's grave and check on our now empty family estate. Because of the recent attacks at Hogwarts, I assumed that I would have to forgo this year's pilgrimage. It pained me to do so, but I did understand that my mother was dead, and the students remaining over the Christmas holiday needed my presence more.

I spent the entirety of Tuesday afternoon filling out the students' term report sheets to be passed in that night. Avrille had not been at dinner the night before, and she had attended neither breakfast nor lunch that day. I was concerned but knew there was nothing I could do at the moment. Under the pretence of her missing an appointment with me, I had inquired of Avrille to Madam Pomfrey. Madam Pomfrey stated she had not treated Avrille in the infirmary this day or last, but she assured me she would check on her in her rooms before dinner. There was nothing else I could do but finish my own work and hope Avrille was well.

However, that was easier said than done. Quite often I found myself staring off into the distance with my thoughts wrapped around Avrille like my arms had been the day before. After she left my office, I had pressed my lips against the damp spot her tears had left on my robes. Her floral scent lingered on me for the briefest time before disappearing like her dried tears. My hands could still feel the smooth satin of her hair beneath them… Needless to say, it took me hours to complete marking which should have taken less than half that time.

When I eventually finished the students' report sheets, I knew I had to finally complete the task I had been delaying all week; Avrille's first term evaluation needed filling out. After a few minutes of rummaging, I managed to locate the form at the bottom of a pile of N.E.W.T. level students' essays. I placed it square in front of me on my desk and read over the questions. They were all very straightforward such as, "Describe the apprentice's general attitude throughout the first term" and, "Has the apprentice exhibited any behavioural concerns? Please explain with specific dates and details if applicable."

What to write? Avrille was the most sublimely perfect apprentice a professor could ever ask for. I obviously could not write the things I was thinking most of the time such as how just seeing a glimpse of Avrille in the corridors made my life finally worth living, and if she ever suddenly quit the apprenticeship I would most likely kill myself. Nevertheless, I set myself to try and fill out the form as dispassionately as I could.

As I slowly completed the questionnaire, I started to become paranoid. Was it obvious from my answers that I utterly worshipped her? I had nothing negative to report because she was ridiculously competent and even, I believed, over-educated for the apprentice position. Should I try to think of _something _to criticise just so it sounded more believable? I thought about what Pomona had most likely written. I knew Pomona adored Avrille, so it was unlikely that she would have anything negative to say. In the end I just did my best to answer the questions truthfully. I knew that even if I was not in love with Avrille, the answers would be the same. The fact was she was the best apprentice I had ever had, and that made me love her even more, not the other way around.

Avrille was not at dinner. Besides her absence, the staff table was actually quite full. I knew many teachers who normally would have returned home for the holidays were staying behind now at Hogwarts to help with the new security measures. Everyone was talking about yesterday's attack.

After eating, I gathered my paperwork and headed to Dumbledore's office. I found the headmaster seated at his desk, deep in thought as he was apt to be lately. He had so much more to bear than the rest of us, because, in the end, he would be the one held accountable for whatever happened to the students. The governors were already restless, and it was only a matter of time before things came to a head. Either we in the school would have to solve the mystery of the attacks, or the bureaucrats would force some sort of baseless, inconvenient resolution to appease the worried parents.

"Headmaster," I said quietly since Dumbledore was too absorbed in his pondering to notice I had entered.

"Ah, Severus. I apologise." Dumbledore straightened in his chair. "Your marks?" he asked as I handed him my folder.

"Yes sir, as well as Mistress Asphodel's first term evaluation."

Dumbledore opened the folder and quickly skimmed through the leaflets. "I have had a chance to read Pomona's evaluation already. She states Avrille is doing exceedingly well in her half of the apprenticeship. Would you say the same?"

"Absolutely," I replied. "Mistress Asphodel's performance has been exemplary. Although…" I paused. Even though I knew it was in Avrille's best interest, I still felt guilty bringing the subject to the headmaster's attention. "There is something on a different note I wanted to address. Minerva came to me yesterday with the schedule for the night-time patrol shifts. I would like to suggest that Mistress Asphodel perhaps be excused from the duty. Since she has had no visible restoration of any magic usage since starting here, I believe the threat to her own safety is greater than the benefit she might add to security."

Dumbledore nodded as he continued to scan the evaluation. "Yes, I quite agree. I regret that the situation here has been occupying all of my attention. I had wished to spend more time personally with Avrille for assessment, but the circumstances have rendered that impossible. I shall speak to Minerva about the patrol shift."

He closed the file folder and slid it into a desk drawer. Then he stood and withdrew several sheets from a stack of papers on the corner of the desk. He walked towards me as he glanced over them. "Yes, I see here she has put you down for Christmas Eve. Good. That won't interfere with your absence tomorrow, then."

"Sir?"

Dumbledore looked at me pointedly over his spectacles. "Tomorrow is the anniversary of your mother's death. I assume you shall be going back to your estate."

I was very touched that Dumbledore had managed to remember despite all the chaos of the past few months. "I had not planned on it. I didn't think it necessary considering the state the school is in."

Dumbledore placed his hand on my shoulder. "Severus, I appreciate every single day of work you have done these past few months. I am not so selfish as to impede your duty. Go home. The school will be fine for one night." With a pat on the back, he signalled that I was dismissed.

"Thank you, sir," I said gratefully and left the office.

I went to bed early that night, the first time in well over a week. I wanted to be well-rested and clearheaded so I could devote my full concentration to the tasks needing completion at the house. Because I neither lived there myself nor kept any servants or house-elves in my employ, there were several things I did every year to keep the house and grounds in a state of relative upkeep. For instance, each year I renewed the many charms cast on the house itself to keep it unimportant enough for notice by the local Muggle townsfolk and to shield the grounds from trespassers. My family had long ago made the entire property Inapparatable to keep out unwanted wizards, but I reinforced the old spells every year for good measure. I also had several simple yet effective charms to protect the house from damage from the elements. Of course tending to my mother's grave was the most important duty to me. I always did it by hand without magic, so it usually took me hours to remove what nature had accomplished during the last twelve months.

I woke early the next morning and dressed warmly since I would be spending most of that day and the next outside. I only went inside the house at night to sleep. The house still held too many painful memories for me, and even though those ill feelings faded slightly more with each passing year, I tried to be inside it as little as possible.

I had a hearty breakfast alone in my rooms then packed a small bag for the overnight. After sending the bag ahead to the house, I was all ready to depart, I had even donned my cloak, but something was still bothering me. I was still worried about Avrille. I had not seen her since the attack, and I felt uncomfortable about leaving her behind. But most likely Lavinia or someone else had been checking in on her... Even though it was depressing to think, Avrille really had no reason to _need _me here.

It would not do. I could not leave without letting Avrille know I had been thinking of her. For some reason our conversation at the Three Broomsticks came back to me. Miraculously, I remembered every single detail of that night, even the ones I found quite embarrassing. Recalling that night gave me an idea. I sat at my desk and wrote a quick note to Avrille. I re-read it several times to make sure it did not sound strange or unnatural. Even so, for good measure, I charmed the seal so that no one but she would be able to open it. There. Now at least I had something to look forward to when I returned.

Because it was still quite early in the morning, and the Hogwarts Express would not be departing with the homeward bound students until the afternoon, the castle was virtually deserted as I passed quickly through. Outside it was snowing, and the strong wind and ominous-looking clouds made it clear another storm would soon hit. I walked as quickly as I could down the hill to the castle gates. Once through, I could have immediately Disapparated, but I continued on to the village so I could mail my letter to Avrille. I wanted to be sure that when she received it there was absolutely no way she could contact me until I returned to the castle. I needed time to brace myself against seeing her again. Right now I was far too unstable and dangerously close to doing something exceedingly stupid like dropping to my knees in front of her and pledging my undying devotion. I needed time to rebuild my walls.

Despite the early hour, Hogsmeade was already buzzing with activity. Many people were out for breakfast or to finish their Christmas preparations. To my annoyance I had to wait in an exceedingly long line at the post office since it seemed half the village was there mailing Christmas cards and presents to loved ones. Once I reached the head of the line, it was literally seconds until I had paid and was out the door. But the wait hadn't mattered. It would be worth it if Avrille agreed.

As soon as I had exited the post office, I Disapparated. The snow was already falling heavier, and I had no desire to remain in that climate any longer than necessary. After an instant's concentration and a half turn on the spot, I was smelling the salty sea air and being misted with a cool drizzle.

I usually Apparated a few hundred yards away from where my land began. I believe the spot I chose was some sort of Muggle national forest. It was always guaranteed to be secluded and undeveloped, thus preventing any Muggles being startled by the sight of a man suddenly appearing out of nowhere.

A cool breeze blew rain into my eyes as I picked my way through the underbrush. The forest around me was silent, and I could hear the raindrops hitting the dead leaves coating the ground. I could have easily cast a charm to protect myself from the rain, but at the moment I was feeling miserable and wanted to be wet. I missed Avrille, and knew I shouldn't. Professors should not miss their apprentices.

Within minutes I felt a slight tingling as I breached the magical boundary separating my estate from the Muggle park. If a Muggle had been within even a half-mile of that boundary, they would have been suddenly gripped with an intense feeling that a storm would be fast approaching or perhaps a wild animal might appear, so it would be prudent to quickly return to their automobile and seek shelter somewhere far away. For a wizard whom I had not cleared for passage, which was of course everyone except perhaps Dumbledore, who could bypass any magical barrier if he really felt inclined to, they would encounter what would feel like a stone wall as a message they were clearly not welcome.

My mother's grave was situated at the far end of the estate under a large chestnut tree she had told me she climbed often in her youth. It was a beautiful spot, idyllic and tranquil. It was different in every possible way from the family mortuaries which were also located on the property. Every member of my mother's family was entombed there except her, of course. I had staunchly refused to lay her to rest within those cold, unfeeling edifices. Her life had been so dark and miserable that I wanted for her at least in death to always be free under the trees and sky. When my mother died, which happened during the darkest period of my life when I had been young and foolish enough to listen to the Dark Lord and allow myself to become a Death Eater, my father had been too far gone from drink to care what I did with her body. Therefore I picked that spot under the chestnut tree, and after her internment I sealed it with the strongest spells I knew to protect her from whatever twisted things my father might potentially do.

I emerged from the forest and was immediately greeted with the austere sight of the foreboding tombs and mausoleums, their rough granite exteriors appearing almost black from the rain. I purposefully chose my Apparation point long ago so that every time I visited here, I would have to walk past these crypts. I felt it especially necessary for me to view the tombs now to staunchly impress the fact that I had become far too involved with Avrille, and what I desired further was dangerous. The sight was immediately effective; I was already regretting sending that note to her just minutes before.

At the end of a row of mortuaries, I turned and stared hard at the tomb nearest to me. To an outsider it would seem no different from the dozen others surrounding it. But I knew this one was singular. It was the one containing what remained of my father.

I had received the owl on a summer evening shortly after the conclusion of my first year as Hogwarts' Potions master. It contained only four words: "Your father is dying." Perhaps if the message had come even just two years earlier, while I was still in Italy, I would not have heeded it. But now that I had finally established myself in the academic world, I wanted the satisfaction of showing my father in person that he had not been able to keep me down.

The letter had been sent by Hortense Alden, the old village Healer, who had been the midwife at my birth and seen my mother and myself through countless illnesses and "accidents." Upon arriving at her cottage an hour later, Hortense informed me that my father's drinking had finally taken the ultimate toll. She estimated he would not live through the next day. She said with the administration of detoxifying potions, it would be possible to keep him alive for perhaps another week, but even all the magical healing in the world could not save his life now that he had spent the greater part of it poisoning his body with spirits.

I asked her how long he had been seriously ill. Hortense's eyes shifted down guiltily as she replied, "Six months."

"And within all that time, you had not tried to improve his condition? Why was he not sent to St. Mungo's in London?" I had asked this more out of morbid curiosity for details than out of concern for the extension of his life. Hortense replied that she knew there simply wasn't enough money left to pay for the sort of intense treatment my father would have needed at St. Mungo's. And as for herself, my father would allow her nowhere near him, even as he lay dying.

My father had been a pure-blood fanatic. Since it was well known that Hortense had had a Muggle father from the village, my father never allowed her to treat him in the past. I suppose even an imminent, painful death was not enough to push aside such an old, deep-rooted prejudice.

"I sent for you tonight because I know he will not last much longer. I thought perhaps you might want to speak with him before the end and make your peace," Hortense had said. Then she apologised for not being able to do more for my family and saw me out the door.

The walk to my childhood home seemed to take seconds, even though it was nearly half a league from the outskirts of town where Hortense lived. The old place was still known as Greyadder House and had been in my mother's family for centuries, heralding back to a time when we were the richest wizarding family in the county. My great-great-great-grandfather had once owned the land that now made up the bustling town centre. He sold it little by little to Muggle investors at great profit until he had enough extra money to build his country home, the large stone edifice that was Greyadder House, up on a hill far removed from the quickly expanding Muggle village. There he sat until his death, lording over the townspeople until he passed it on to his son, and so on and so forth until it reached my mother. My maternal grandparents had died suddenly when my mother, Charlotte, was just out of school, leaving their only child the house and the good amount of wealth remaining after some was used to live comfortably through two Muggle World Wars. Less than a year after her parents' deaths, my mother married Septimus Snape, a wizard with a steadfastly pure-blood lineage but no money or connections. Within five years of their marriage, my father had squandered all the money left in Gringotts. This left my mother and me with virtually nothing and completely dependent on my father and his salary to maintain a hold on the house, its remaining furnishings, and the land.

The walk from Hortense's had passed almost instantly, and before I knew it, I found myself in my parents' bedroom. All of the velvet drapes were pulled closed, but unevenly as though someone had jerked them together while passing briskly by. On the bedside two of Mother's best aromapothecary candles flickered through the dim. They reminded me of her, fighting futilely and silently against the oppressive darkness which would inevitably overcome. I had never seen Mother use those candles when she had been alive, although I had been told one was generously used the night I was born to help her through the birthing pains. Since then, and until tonight, they had lain unused and safe in her cedar chest with the precious few things left after my father had plundered it for drink money.

The candles were exceedingly rare and potent. My great-grandmother had dipped them many years before, infusing them with rare herbs and oils that would relieve even the most excruciating suffering for as long as the wax melted from the wick. Throughout my life, they had been saved for the direst emergency, which had become more and more likely as the years progressed, and the Dark Lord's power grew. My father had steadfastly refused to allow me to burn one when my mother lay dying two years earlier, citing their value was too great to "waste" on someone who would no longer feel any pain in a few hours' time. I had never forgiven him that small cruelty. Now _two_ candles sat dripping their precious wax into an even larger pool that seemed to be the remains of at least three candles before them. I stood perfectly still and allowed the sweet opiate air the fill my lungs and my mind. The house was empty. Hortense had mentioned that our one remaining servant had abandoned his position two days ago when it was apparent there was no more money to pay his wages. That left my father and I alone. He and I.

When I was a boy, I had dreaded times such as these. It happened once or twice a year. My mother, sick with exhaustion from the constant physical and emotional assaults, would flee to the home of one of her few remaining friends for a couple days of respite, gathering her strength to once more face the onslaught that was my father day after endless day. She never took me with her, assuming my father would never hurt his own son. She was wrong, but I suppose it could have been worse. After venting his fury at Mother's temporary flight on my small frame, he would soon forget the cause of his anger as he drowned himself in expensive alcohol and cheap women. When my mother would return a few days later, she would hold me close and promise through salty tears that _next_ time she would take me with her, and we would never return. She had a cousin in France who could take us in. Or an uncle in Portugal. Next time, she would be prepared, and we would fly from our torment like two birds into the dark night. Once we were safely away, she would buy me the best clothes and trinkets money could buy. Knowing my passion for reading at an early age, I was sure to have the finest library on the continent. When I was home from school, we would spend every day by the sea and every evening in stylish cafés, mingling with the best of society as she had done in her youth.

After the third or fourth round of these promises produced naught, I stopped believing her. Oh I knew if she were at all able, we would have gone far away, but I also knew that she was incapable of ever openly defying my father. Besides, the money which could finance such an escape was long gone. Nevertheless, I still listened to Mother's promises and agreed assuredly that yes, someday things would be better but for now rest and don't worry about that at the moment.

But now… Now things were different. My mother was no longer there to protect that man with her pleading eyes. "He is still your father," she would say in her quiet way that was slightly more than a whisper but quiet enough so we were never overheard, "and I am still his wife. You must never raise a hand against he who brought you into this world. And… I will always still love him." Through death Mother had finally been able to flee the house she had come to hate with all of her being, in which all that remained now was a husk of the man she had loved so faithfully.

As I approached the bedside from the flickering shadows, I wet my fingertips and pinched out the aromapothecary candles' healing fire. The ordinary candles in their elegant iron sconces provided enough light by which I could still see my father's emaciated body. I Conjured a comfortable chair and sat in it, waiting… waiting for the drugged stupor of the room to lift. I wanted him to be in as much pain as possible before he died.

Sitting there provided me an unobstructed view of my father's sleeping face. I knew those features so well because they were mostly my own. A cruel twist of fate had given me the same jet black hair that matched his soul so well, his hard eyes, severe nose and chin, and sharp jaw-line. The illness had prevented my father from taking sustenance for over a week, and the drastic change in his appearance was a testament to it. His once haughty cheekbones were now jutting ridges over sunken cheeks. His jaw bore a three-day stubble, and the bed linens reeked of disease. My father _had_ once been handsome in his own way, but it was the dark, angular handsomeness of a mad Greek god. My mother had been the complete opposite, fair of crown and rosy of complexion, a gentle Persephone too yielding to withstand the battering onslaught of a Hades' "love."

I do not remember how long I sat there watching him, perhaps an hour or two. Every passing minute increased my hatred of him as more and more memories of my childhood flooded me. It was as if the walls of the house were drenched with them, and they were seeping in through my pores. I could recall every single time Mother had to lock us in this room to protect us from my father's drunken rages. She would stand against the door as though by sheer will her slight frame would keep the madman out. When I was slightly older, I would hide under that very bed and devour books on the Dark Arts while my father fornicated with some Muggle woman in the parlour, memorizing every spell or scrap of information I could use to revenge myself on him someday.

My father stirred among the sweat-stained sheets and opened eyes that were cloudy and yellowed. I stood and Vanished the chair. I moved to the very edge of the bed so I would be the first thing he would see. Slowly, my father turned his head towards me, his closely shaven scalp making it look oddly misshapen. Even in the dim light I could see the moment when his eyes focused on my form. He smiled. I swear to God the bastard smiled when he saw I was there.

"Severus…" he croaked hoarsely. "My son…" He reached out a hand towards me. I looked down at it with contempt and let it hang uselessly off the edge of the mattress.

"Father," I acknowledged him coldly.

"You've… come… You've come back… home…" His speech was laboured and slurred as though the drink were still heavily in him.

"I have come to see you die."

My father withdrew his outstretched hand and with several pathetic movements managed to draw himself up to a half-sitting position. When he turned to me again his eyes were perfectly clear and gleaming malevolently.

"You little shit. Is… that all you have to say?" he spat.

I refused to rise to his bait. I stood with my arms crossed, my wand stored in my jacket pocket. It would be a complete degradation of my powers to waste a spell on the feeble carcass in front of me.

My father took a few shuddering, wheezy breaths as he looked me up and down. "I can't believe… the Dark Lord… allowed such a useless… whelp to serve him."

I smiled wickedly. Of course my father still believed I had remained faithful in my service to the Dark Lord. Indeed only the Order of the Phoenix and select members of the Wizengamot knew the role I had played in the Dark Lord's downfall. My father had had some old friends among the Death Eaters. The fact that I had joined them was most likely the only thing I had ever done to make my father proud in my life. He probably relished the idea that if he couldn't control me anymore, at least there was a supremely powerful Dark wizard who would do it instead.

"Ah, the Dark Lord… Such a shame about him…" I said silkily.

"Silence! You dare… mock… the Dark Lord?" my father thundered, an amazing feat considering how much effort he was expending just to remain upright.

"Yes!" I yelled right back. "He is _dead!_ Just as you soon shall be! And the world is a better place for it!"

A shadow passed over my father's face. That was the first time I had ever raised my voice at him. "You… you were a Death Eater. Have you… no respect for your Lord?" he asked hoarsely.

I laughed. "Since you are about to die, you might as well know that the only man I have served the past two years has been Albus Dumbledore."

"_Dumbledore!" _My father spat out the name as though it were the foulest word he had ever heard. "That Muggle-sodding _fool_?"

"Yes," I replied calmly. "I am teaching at Hogwarts now. Dumbledore considered the position well-deserved after the information I gave him helped bring down the Dark Lord and put several of your Death Eater friends in Azkaban."

My father sank back into his pillow. His eyes closed, and for a moment I thought he had passed on. Then he gave a quiet, malicious laugh.

"My little Severus… a traitor to his own blood." He opened his eyes once more and a mad grin twisted his hollow face. "Your life is just without fault now… isn't it?"

I felt a chill descend on the room then, but my father wasn't done speaking.

"So… you're all set up now at Hogwarts. Probably will find… a pretty little bitch to marry soon… have some brats of your own…" My father was still smiling. The air in the room _was _noticeably colder. The candle flames dipped low on their wicks, casting my father's face in almost complete shadow. It was then that I noticed, even standing a few feet away from him as I was, I could definitely feel a sort of pulsing heat emanating from the bed.

"Yes… a nice little slut to screw every night." My father's whisper was dangerously quiet. I should have taken out my wand right then. I don't know why I didn't. I suppose, though I didn't want to admit it to myself, that even bed-ridden with disease my father still terrified me.

"Do you think that after I die tonight, everything will just be perfect?" His voice rose. The wheezing was gone from his speech now. The words he spoke were clear and cold. "I will be _damned_ if the House of Snape is continued by a traitorous weakling like you." From under the sheets where I had not been able to see, my father pulled out his wand. I found I was frozen to the spot.

He pointed his wand directly at my chest. By now I could feel the heat rolling off him like waves. In the depths of my mind, I knew what he was doing. I knew what all of it meant. I was unable to stop it.

In a voice that sounded like thunder, my father roared, "_If a love you ever consummate, may you be damned to a place of bones, a place of death and decay, a place of never-ending suffering!_

"_Male Perdere!_"

The wave of heat passed through me. I lost consciousness.

When I awoke, I was on the floor and unable to determine if several seconds or several hours had passed. Surprisingly, I felt completely fine. For a moment I lay there, listening for sounds of movement from the bed even though I knew there would be none. I had heard my father's last words; he had spoken a Death Wish.

The room was blanketed in complete darkness. As I stood I removed my wand from my jacket, where it never should have been, and waved alight the candles on the walls. As light burst forth, I saw on the bed exactly what I had known would be there.

My father was dead. His face still held the expression of manic exaltation it had borne as he cursed me. His lifeless hand still held his wand pointed straight out at the direction where I had been standing. I walked over and wrenched the wand away. I snapped it in half in utter fury then spit on the motionless corpse.

With his death my father had managed to destroy my life.


	21. Chapter Twenty One: AVRILLE

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

_Avrille_

It was finally Christmas Eve. I had barely slept since Monday. I had done practically everything I could think of to keep myself awake all night. I had written extensive letters to my mother, then thrown most of them away in fear that the sudden increase in writing would make her suspicious and worry. I spent hours playing with Caligula, something I hadn't done since he was a kitten. I read books while pacing around my room so the reading wouldn't make me sleepy. I knew this couldn't continue much longer. After Christmas vacation it would be back to work, and I couldn't afford to go without sleep like this. But what could I do? The thought of having another vision paralyzed me with fear. Of course, one solution would be for me to make a dreamless-sleep potion… but I really didn't trust myself to brew it correctly in my present sleep-deprived state. Also, there was no guarantee a simple sleeping potion would stave off dreams of such magical power. I had never heard of a case like mine where the person having the visions wanted to stop them.

On the evening of Justin's attack, I had gathered my spirits to go see Severus. I wanted to thank him for his support earlier and for sending the tea to me. I also wanted to see if there was anything I could do to help him finish up grading or whatnot, although I don't know how much use I would have been to him given my disjointed state of mind. It turned out not to matter because Severus wasn't in his office nor in any of the dungeon classrooms. I was much too shy to go his private rooms, so I returned to my own and spent the night writing my first two, eventually scrapped letters to my mom.

I had been debating whether or not to go see Madam Pomfrey when she herself visited my rooms the next afternoon to inquire after my health. It was true I had missed several meals, but I had no idea my absence would be noticed. I lied and told the nurse I was well, just a little stressed due to the attacks and the end of term work. She gave me a vial containing Draught of Peace and instructed me to take a tablespoon every four hours as long as the anxiety persisted. She also recommended plenty of bed rest now the term was officially over. I found that to be especially ironic since it was the thought of bed rest which was giving me the fits of anxiety.

I did take the Draught of Peace as Madam Pomfrey instructed. I found that if I took short naps during the day, a time when I had never had a vision and therefore seemed safer to me, I could stay up all night. Caligula absolutely loved this new nocturnal habit of mine and yowled angrily if I desisted playing with him for a moment.

Yesterday morning I had been startled by an sudden rapping outside my window. I opened it to find an ornery brown owl with bedraggled feathers holding out a scroll to me. As soon as I removed it from his leg, he took off like a shot arrow in the direction of the owlry in West Tower. However, after only a few wing flaps, he was swallowed by the white swirls of the morning snow shower. Looking out across the grounds, I was instantly brought back to the other night when another snow shower had forced Severus and me into a carriage together, and we had almost kissed…

A fierce gust of wind nearly tore the scroll from my hand. I clutched it tighter and quickly latched the window closed before I had a blizzard of my own to deal with inside. I had just been getting ready for a power nap when the owl arrived, so I dashed quickly across the icy-cold stone floor and jumped into bed. As I arranged my pillows into a soft cocoon, I wondered who on earth would be writing to me. I thought maybe it was my mom, somehow alerted across the ocean by maternal instinct that not all was well with her daughter lately.

But once I pulled up the coverlet and had a chance to look at the address on the outside of the letter, I knew immediately who it was from. My heart leapt into my throat. I had seen that wonderfully distinct handwriting nearly every day since I started my apprenticeship. In fact, I kept a small box under my bed filled with samples of it from the few notes I had received on my classroom observations. It was so precious to me since it belonged to the man I loved.

Barely able to rein in my excitement, I opened the scroll with painstaking carefulness and shaking hands. Severus had never written to me before, and I did not want a single tear to mar the parchment. When I finally had it unrolled, I held it up to the dim morning light and read:

_Avrille,_

_I hope that this letter finds you well. A personal duty has called me away from Hogwarts for a brief time, but I shall be returning to the castle tomorrow afternoon. We had previously discussed a return visit to the Three Broomsticks, and I would be honoured if you would accompany me there once more tomorrow night. Please forgive my assumption, but I believe some time away from the castle in light of recent events would do us both well. If this meeting is not convenient for you, please write by return owl. However, if it is, I shall be awaiting you outside the Three Broomsticks tomorrow night at eight o'clock. _

_ With Sincerest Regards,_

_Severus_

I didn't know what to make of it. Mostly I was impressed that Severus had remembered our conversation from the last time. Yet there was still a small part of me that was hesitant. If he remembered our agreement to return to the Three Broomsticks, then he most likely remembered that awkward scene in the carriage. We hadn't had a real conversation since then. Of course we had talked a little the other afternoon about the vision I had, but how had that ended? With us embracing. I was just so confused.

I did a quick mental run-through of everything that had happened between Severus and me since I first arrived at Hogwarts. The beginning had been shaky, that was for sure. There was a time there when I wasn't even sure if Severus _liked _me. Then later we started to connect, and up until these past few days I would even go so far as to call us friends, but certainly no more than that. Severus had never flirted with me. So what the hell had happened between then and now where I was, against my better judgment, seriously considering the possibility that he might have an attraction to me?

Somehow I had the feeling that this next meeting would be the determining factor. I would try to act as naturally as possible and be observant. It was dangerous for me to read too much into the letter. Although it was depressing, I had to act according to the conclusion I had reached the other day that Severus only cared for me as a colleague, and the events of these past few days had been the result of him being simply concerned over my obvious upset state. It was a real possibility that any more inappropriate actions on my part could lead to Severus deciding I wasn't cut out for the apprenticeship and expel me from the position.

I slept very poorly after that, the rest of the day lost in a haze of half-forgotten dreams. That night I must have reread Severus' letter a hundred times studying the nuances of every word. By the morning I had reached no new conclusions. I would have to play this evening out by ear.

I started to get ready at five o'clock. I don't think I have ever spent as much time trying to look "casual" before. In the end I settled on a simple belted tunic over warm wool pants. Since under normal circumstances I never bothered, I didn't put on make-up or do anything special with my hair. It wasn't snowing out, but it looked very windy and cold so I put on my fur-lined coat and grabbed my wool scarf and mittens. I might have almost gotten kissed last time because I was cold, but I didn't want Severus to think I was a moron. I was going to be warm tonight.

At half past seven, I kissed Caligula and whispered, "Wish me luck!" I left my room and headed down the stairs. The castle looked absolutely gorgeous. All of the banisters had been wrapped with holly and tinsel and every single surface was polished to a shine. Enchanted baubles of gold and silver light floated near the ceiling, delicately chiming whenever they gently collided midair.

It was quite cold outside, but as soon as I had made my way past the castle gate and into the cover of the trees, it wasn't too bad. I walked as quickly as I could down the icy path and mentally ran through all of the things I was _not_ going to talk about tonight. First off, I would not ask where Severus had gone yesterday, even though I was curious since he had mentioned before that he had no friends or family he visited. It wasn't my business, and it would be rude to pry. I was certainly not going to bring up anything from the last Hogsmeade trip, given that I wasn't sure what exactly Severus remembered about it. I hoped he wouldn't mention my breakdown in his office because, frankly, I was rather embarrassed about that. He was my superior, and I really shouldn't have bothered him with my personal problems. I obviously didn't want to talk about all of the attacks because that was just horribly depressing. So what in the world _was_ I going to talk about?

I passed the train station and started to hear the pleasant noises of the village. It sounded like there were at least two groups of carollers whose jumbled songs actually complimented each other. I entered the village gates and saw what could have been the front of a Christmas card. The new snow had blanketed all of the roofs, making each little building look like a gingerbread house topped with icing. All of the street lamps glowed brightly, and strands of lights shone draped back and forth between them. Many of the trees and bushes had been decorated and looked like frosted pastries. The streets were absolutely mobbed with laughing, singing people. It looked like every single resident of the village was out and about that evening. The stores were all closed up tight, but brilliant light and noise burst forth from the windows and doors of each restaurant, café, and pub.

I slowly made my way up the High Street, weaving through crowds and politely separating myself from a few young men who tried to entice me to dance with them. Small children were running about everywhere, ducking between legs and under their mothers' skirts. I passed the lane Lavinia and I had taken earlier in the week and noticed that the line for Madam Puddifoot's stretched out down the stairs. It was certainly a wonderful night for a hot cup of coffee.

As I approached the Three Broomsticks, my first thought was how to find Severus in the crowd. The pub was crammed so full that tables had been set up out front despite the cold. It looked like Madam Rosemerta had at least two other girls helping her dole out mulled wine and hot spiced cider to the throng of chilly patrons socializing outside. I was about to start forcing my way inside when I felt a gentle tug on my elbow. I turned to see Severus holding the sleeve of my coat, looking strikingly dramatic against the town's bright holiday colours in a sweeping cloak and leather gloves of black. He gestured for me to follow him down a side street where it was a little quieter and we could actually hear each other speak.

"Hi!" I said. "I don't think we're going to be able to get in right away."

Severus looked over my head back toward the bar and nodded. "I apologize. I've never been down here Christmas Eve. I had no idea it would be so crowded."

I shrugged. "Is there somewhere else you would like to go instead? The Hog's Head isn't the best, but there might be less people…"

Severus' expression was unreadable as he glanced up and down the street. "I'm actually not feeling very sociable at the moment. Would you mind if we just walked?"

"Whatever you feel like doing is fine with me," I replied with a smile, glad I had dressed warmly after all.

"Great," he said and started to walk out of the alley. I followed a step behind, unsure how close I should be to him. Severus took a left and continued back up the High Street past Zonko's Joke Shop and Honeydukes. Honeydukes was the only store still open, and it was positively buzzing with kids getting all nice and hyped up on sugar before bed. I had to move quickly to keep up with Severus, who was walking at a brisk pace as though he had a destination in mind rather than simply strolling for pleasure. A few people on the street called out a greeting to Severus, who replied with a nod or a wave of his gloved hand. Pretty soon we were away from the commotion of the town square. Here and there were small, cozy cottages with neatly swept walkways. All of the houses were dark since most of the residents were in town celebrating. I did my best to keep up, walking beside Severus but not too close, wondering what was running through his mind. We were quickly approaching the village limits.

Severus turned to me and said simply, "There are some nice paths up here."

"Oh," I replied. What else was I supposed to say? Severus was being oddly silent and introspective. Whenever I glanced over, he was either looking straight ahead or with his eyes slightly downcast as though deep in thought.

We passed through the far village gate and stepped into the woods beyond. It was amazingly beautiful out here at night. Though the sky was nearly overcast, what fragile starlight there was reflected off of the new snow, illuminating our path as though by a spell. By now the only sounds were the crunching of our boots on the path and the wind whistling shrilly through the trees. Even with the protection of the woods around us, it was still bitingly cold.

I was beginning to feel very uncomfortable with our mutual silence. "I'm sorry I didn't check in with you the past few days," I said quietly. Severus' eyes flicked toward me for an instant, but he kept up his brisk pace down the path.

"Don't be. I knew you were upset."

"Yeah…"

I huffed quietly in annoyance into my scarf. I still felt guilty. We came upon a fork in the path. Severus continued to the left without hesitation. By now he seemed to have noticed the difficulty I was having keeping up with his long strides, because he had slowed down a bit. When the wind was not blowing, the night was so quiet that I could hear the almost indiscernible rustle of Severus' cloak gliding over the snow.

After the fork the trees started to thin out. We eventually came into a clearing, and I could see up ahead what looked like a weather beaten fence separating the path from a steep hill. I walked up to the fence to see what lay beyond it, while Severus wandered a little farther down and rested his arms on the highest wooden rung. He stared mutely across the clearing. I followed his gaze and saw nestled on top of the hill a decrepit hut looming eerily among spindly pines and birches. Out of the shelter of the trees, the wind gusted fiercely and blew up clouds of snow that left my coat dusted with white. Our hair whipped around us, mine constantly blowing into my mouth since it was too cold to breathe through my nose.

I moved closer to Severus and leaned over the fence as well. "Maybe this isn't the best night for a walk, after all," I commented.

"Well, we could go sit up in there and… talk… for a while," Severus said, pointing up to the hut.

That seemed like an odd suggestion after we had spoken only a dozen words since meeting up. "But doesn't someone live there?" I asked as I tucked my hair into my collar and pulled up my hood.

Severus smiled wickedly. "Of course not. _That_ is the Shrieking Shack."

I stared hard at Severus, he looking back with complete innocence. He seemed serious.

"Are you kidding me?" I exclaimed. "That's the most haunted building in England! I don't care how cold it is; there's no way I'm going up there."

Severus scoffed and turned to lean his back against the fence, hooking a foot behind a rail. "It's not haunted."

Ok, now I knew he was joking. He certainly had a weird sense of humour, though…

"Yeah. Ha ha. Not haunted. Very funny," I replied sarcastically.

"It isn't. I swear." I must have still looked quite incredulous for his expression fell into one of boyish hurt, which I was not sure was feigned. "You don't believe me?"

What on earth was he talking about? The guidebook I had read before coming to Hogwarts mentioned in its chapter on Hogsmeade that the Shrieking Shack was absolutely avoided by everyone in the area. Occasionally some Hogwarts kids would throw a stone at it from a distance, but no one had ever been inside.

Hesitantly, I said, "It's not that I don't _believe_ you, it's just that I've…"

"…Heard so many horrid tales about it," Severus finished. I nodded, trying to look brave and confident, but to be honest the thought of a host of vengeful ghosts scared the hell out of me. My spirits fell further as Severus climbed through the fence slats to the other side. He held out his hand.

"Trust me," he said simply. I somehow got the feeling this was important to him. I walked up to the fence and took his hand as he helped me climb through. Still holding my hand tightly in his, Severus strode purposefully through the snow toward the Shack. I had no idea what had gotten into him. Five minutes before, he wouldn't even look at me, and now he had me by the hand, dragging me up the hill because of some bizarre whim. I was thankful that if I had to be led into this crazy adventure, at least it was by one of the most powerful wizards in the land.

As we approached our destination, I could have sworn I began to hear a low wailing. I think I must have made a worried noise because Severus turned back to look at me. "It's just the wind," he said with an eyebrow raised in amusement. Of course it was. Just the wind making those horrible moaning noises that were increasing in intensity. They're _not _ghosts because Severus says so. I had to admit it was not very romantic following the man I loved into possibly perilous territory in which I would be completely defenceless, but how could I have refused when he asked me to trust him? Naturally, the only answer was I couldn't because I did.

Far too quickly we found ourselves right in front of the Shack. I did have to admit standing in its lee did block most of the wind… And up close like this those moaning noises _did_ sound more like restless air than restless spirits. Severus let go of my hand and began circling the perimeter, trying to find the easiest way inside. Thoughts of ghosts aside, the building was disheartening enough in itself. It was, in fact, much larger up close than it had seemed from the safe distance of the fence. All of its numerous windows and doors were boarded rather haphazardly, contributing to its dilapidated appearance. The roof seemed mainly intact, although numerous shingles had slid off over the years and now jutted up through the snow like tiny gravestones.

I followed Severus as he walked to the rear of the building. Here he found a window where half of the boarding had rotted away. As he pulled down the decomposing barrier, I stood to the side, shivering in the full blast of the winter air. I was still wondering why on earth he had gotten the urge to trespass this creepy place that was absolutely without any redeeming qualities besides the fact it was a shelter from the elements. But then so was the Three Broomsticks. Or the Hog's Head. Or Madame Puddifoot's or… anything _else!_

Once the boards fell away, Severus opened the window with surprising ease given that it had probably stood closed for countless years. Seeing the open window hammered home once more that he really did intend to bring me inside.

"You know, it really isn't _that_ cold out…" I lied. I admit it; I was still completely freaked out.

"Come now, Avrille. Where is your sense of adventure?" Severus asked in a completely irresistible teasing voice. That said, he stepped onto a pile of rubble and with a swish of his cloak and a deft leg up he was inside. He leaned out of the window and offered to assist me. Heaving a sigh of inevitability, I grasped his hands and allowed myself to be pulled up, the effort being a little more difficult with my shorter legs. Once we were both in, he shut the window and pulled closed what remained of some ancient drapes.

Severus' wand burst forth a brilliant light which stung my eyes for a moment. Once they adjusted, I could see that the Shack was perhaps the gloomiest place I had ever been. The glow from Severus' wand shone over scattered pieces of broken furniture covered in dust. More mouldy drapes hung from the windows through which the palest slivers of starlight shone through the boards. The only sound was that of the wind whistling through hidden cracks. It was very obvious no one had been in here for a long time, spirit or otherwise.

"There really is nothing here," I said, more to myself than anything.

Severus looked long and hard at me before stating quietly, "I would never subject you to any danger, Avrille." He walked over to the far wall while holding his wand out front for light. There was a cold hearth that was completely empty, its ashes strewn across the floor. With a graceful flick, Severus lit a smokeless fire in the grate. With a sweeping gesture, he had the ashes blown away into a corner. I moved appreciatively in front of blaze, pulled off my mittens, and began to warm my hands. Severus slipped off his cloak and laid it in front of the hearth for us to sit on.

"Now that we're warming up, you have to tell me," I said, sitting in front of the fire.

"Tell you what?" Severus replied as he dropped beside me and removed his gloves.

"How you out of everyone knew this place wasn't haunted, of course."

The flickering light cast strangely shaped shadows on the walls which wriggled and danced as the draughts played with the flames. Severus stared pensively at them for a few moments, unconsciously rolling his wand between his fingers.

"I've never actually been in here before," he said suddenly, as though he had just realized it. He looked around appraising the Shack's meagre contents.

I glanced around as well at the destroyed furniture and piles of old leaves and twigs that were probably rat nests. "Well, there's not much to see."

Severus smiled grimly. "Not much now, anyway." He placed his wand back into his waistcoat and stared at his hands. I wondered if he was going to explain himself at all. I decided not to press. If he wanted to talk about it, he would. If not, then it obviously wasn't my business to begin with. For a long while he was silent, and I thought he had lapsed back into his taciturn mood. But then he began to speak again, though slowly and quietly as though he were reliving something painful.

"When I entered school here, there was a boy in my year who had been bitten by a werewolf. No one knew this at the time, but Professor Dumbledore arranged it with the boy's parents so that he could attend Hogwarts, and no one would ever have to know his secret. When he was 'safe,' he attended classes like the rest of us, but when it was time for the full moon, he was secreted away to a place far removed from anyone whom he could hurt until the spell passed. Through a secret passageway that led from the Hogwarts' grounds, he was brought here."

I shivered despite the warm fire, now understanding why absolutely every piece of furniture in the room was completely demolished. "But he might have escaped at any time. That was incredibly risky," I said.

"It was, but it proceeded that way nevertheless." Severus' voice rose slightly with annoyance. "I suppose the plan worked well, at least for a few years, until three of the boy's… friends… thought it would be amusing to send another student down the passageway to see where it led. He had just glimpsed the werewolf when one of the others lost his nerve and pulled him back."

"That's horrible!" I exclaimed. "He could have been bitten… or killed! How could anyone think that was funny?" Severus didn't reply to my outburst. He sat almost motionless with his gaze set hard on the dusty floor in front of him. He seemed on the verge of an explosion.

"That was you, wasn't it? The one they pranked?" I asked quietly. Severus didn't reply, but I understood. The things Lavinia had mentioned the other night, well, they gave me a fairly good idea of what life must have been like for him at Hogwarts.

I sighed. "You shouldn't be ashamed. Children can be viscously cruel to each other. At the Institute I had girls picking on me all the time."

Severus looked up, incredulous. "You?" he asked.

"Ha! _Especially _me." I stretched my legs out in front of me so my boots could dry and leaned back on my elbows. "I had a few good months right after I enrolled. But as soon as the first quarter grades came out with me on top, most of the girls turned against me. The school was just so incredibly competitive. There was one girl in particular, Heather, who absolutely hated me from then on. She had always been the best in everything, so once I began to threaten her position, she did all that was in her power to keep me down. I mean, most of it was just petty and annoying like spreading rumours or ruining my homework, but she did some pretty nasty things as well.

"She'd yell insults at me in the hallways, trying to make me hex her so I would be the one to end up with detention. In the dormitory where there were no teachers around, she _would _hex me until the other girls told her to stop. My roommates thought I was really mature and noble for never counterattacking. They didn't know that I _couldn't_.

"At first the bullying really upset me. I had never been in school before, and it ruined all of my expectations. After a while I learned to just ignore Heather and the others and get my revenge by putting all of my effort into outdoing her in school. I did manage to make a couple friends who thought I was a virtual saint for putting up with everything. The next year I became Valedictorian, and then once I graduated, I never saw any of them again."

I turned to Severus and smiled. "Sorry… I sort of got lost on a tangent there." I stopped and listened to the sounds of the night for a moment. From directly above us came the sound of a light scurrying, perhaps from a nest of mice or squirrels. The fire was still going strong; Severus must have been renewing the charm non-verbally.

"I've never spoken of my troubles at school before," I continued. "I think maybe I felt like if I complained to anyone about my treatment, then I'd be giving into it. I'd all of a sudden be labelled a victim and lose the respect of my teachers for not sticking up for myself. I was terrified the staff would think I couldn't handle school after all, and they would send me home. I know that must sound crazy now, but I just wanted so badly to be 'normal' like the other girls…" I trailed off on the thought. Severus had turned his head slightly and was watching me.

"I don't think any of it sounds crazy at all," he said quietly.

I shrugged and sat up. The noise around us was quieter; it seemed like the wind had finally died down.

"I believe that the way you treat people will come back to you in the end. Even though it's probably dishonourable of me, I still hope that someday someone will be as cruel to Heather as she was to me. Just for a little while; just so she would know what it feels like. It's just so hard to forgive someone when they have hurt you so badly."

Severus nodded, then gave a wry smile. "I suppose I'm even more dishonourable, then. Some rather horrible things did happen to those boys who bothered me, and I've never once felt sorry about it."

"I think it's just human nature to feel that way. As long as you don't use your own hurt as an excuse to hurt others, then it isn't so bad. If you don't mind me saying, I think, for you, the fact that you are still at this place that held so many bad memories shows how strong you are. You aren't letting your past dictate your future."

Severus was silent and staring into the fire once more. I laughed lightly. "How did this conversation get so serious?"

"I have no idea," he replied. "I suppose it's my fault for bringing you in here. I'm sorry. It was just something I felt I had to do, and I didn't want to do it alone."

"I don't mind," I said, pulling my knees up to my chest. "Maybe if you ever visit Salem then we can meet up and go sit in my old dorm room together."

I had meant it as a joke but Severus grinned and said, "It's a deal." He then stood up and stretched. "We really don't have to stay here. I suppose I just wanted to see it once for myself."

I stood as well and shook out Severus' cloak before handing it to him. He donned it and led the way back to the window we had entered from. I was able to climb out easily this time. The wind had indeed stopped, leaving small drifts of snow everywhere like motionless white-capped waves. I watched Severus turn from the window once, as if taking one last look at the place, before extinguishing the fire with his wand and climbing out himself. With one more wand movement, he replaced what remained of the old boards over the opening, sealing it reasonably shut once more.

I stepped away from the roof overhang and tilted my head all the way back to look at the night sky. Most of the clouds had blown away leaving a blue-black expanse filled with tiny points of light. The new moon had climbed to its zenith, casting muted, shadowy rays across the forested hills and making the snow seem to shine even brighter from between the black tree trunks. Severus came to stand beside me, looking at the dark moon as well.

"It turned out to be a beautiful night after all," he commented while pulling on his gloves.

After having warmed up inside the Shrieking Shack, the air outside did not seem to be quite as frigid as before. It smelled sweet and damp, almost more like March than December. I bent over and picked up a handful of glistening snow. Holding it between my woolly palms I deeply inhaled the clean scent before packing it together into a small mound.

"This is absolutely the perfect snow for snowballs…" I observed. With a well-trained precision, I fired the snowball directly at the window we had just exited. It struck right in the middle with a satisfying _smack._

Severus stared at the window for a beat before commenting, "It's a good thing I put a Strengthening Charm on those boards."

I laughed and scooped up another pile of snow, rolling it between my hands to make another ball. "Now now, Professor, as I said inside, we are being altogether too serious. We're finally on holiday, you know." I tossed the snowball skilfully up and down with one hand.

"And what are you proposing to do with _that_ one?" Severus asked, clasping his hands behind his back.

"You're not going to let all of this perfect snow go to waste, are you? Haven't you ever had a snowball fight?" I asked teasingly.

Then, out of nowhere, I felt something strike the back of my left shoulder. I looked round and saw a clump of snow sticking to the fabric of my jacket. I turned back to Severus, who was smirking at me with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes, I have," he said simply before another phantom snowball hit me, this time on the back of my right leg. I shrieked with indignation and flung my snowball straight at his head. Severus spun just in time so it hit his shoulder instead.

"Avrille!" he exclaimed, sounding absolutely scandalized. "Now I _know_ that is never allowed. Faces are always off-limits."

"Fine!" I shouted while bending over to gather more snow. "Then so is magic. You know that isn't fair!"

Severus' face took on a look of imitation sobriety. "I understand, my lady," he said with a mock bow. He placed his wand, which he had been using behind his back, into his coat pocket once more. Then, as quick as a tiger, he had bent over, formed a snowball, and launched it straight at me. I threw mine wildly in his direction then ran screaming like a little girl down the opposite side of the hill from which we had come until I reached the cover of the trees.

From behind a giant oak, I risked a look back up at the Shack. Severus was still in front of it, laughing at my retreat.

_Fine!_ I thought. _You just _try_ to come over here! I'll be ready!_

I quickly fell to my knees and starting forming snowballs like mad, stacking them like cannon shot on top of each other. After making about twenty, I looked around the oak again. Severus was gone from the hilltop. The bright starshine showed no footprints but mine running down the length of the hill. Uneasy, I spun around. No one was there. Could he have Disapparated? I had said, "no magic," but he might have thought that only applied to the actual snowballs themselves.

With the cold of the snow seeping into my wet knees, I murmured, "Goddamn it…"

I heard, "The _language_, Avrille!" before, _SMACK! _...right between the shoulder blades. Without even stopping to turn and face Severus, I grabbed a snowball in each hand and ran for it again after stomping on my arsenal so it couldn't be commandeered by the enemy. I circled behind a cluster of young pines and crouched among their needled branches for cover.

"AND NO APPARATING!" I yelled out into the cold night.

"You're taking all the fun out of it!" I heard Severus call from somewhere to my left.

"Ha… fun for who, I wonder?" I muttered as I peered through my camouflage in the direction from which his voice had come.

There. I saw him. Severus had made the mistake of standing behind a slender birch tree whose silver bark made his black cloak stand out magnificently. I shot up through the pines and launched both snowballs in his direction. The one from my weaker right hand went slightly awry and hit the birch, but the left one sailed true to its target and hit Severus squarely in the chest. I heard him breathe a curse himself before withdrawing into another tight cluster of pines. I ducked back down and packed together another snowball.

As I was forming a second, a stray cloud passed across the moon, blanketing the forest in sudden dimness. Peering through the pines once again, I could see no trace of Severus at all. He could still be within his thicket or moved somewhere completely different. Deciding to use the unexpected darkness to my advantage as well, I crept from the pine cluster to another ancient oak. This tree was entwined with a neighbour creating a hollow in between the two just the size for a small-framed person like me. I crawled into it and pulled my knees up. I clutched my two snowballs preciously to my chest and strained my hearing for the slightest sound of movement. The air was completely still and silent, and nothing around me moved.

Suddenly a black shadow swooped to the ground beside my perch; Severus had somehow climbed the tree I was in and dropped deftly right next to me. In an utter panic, I tried to jump out my hollow but instead fell splendidly on my face. I quickly scrambled up, but Severus had already darted around the trunk and was right in front of me. My back was to the tree. I had nowhere to go.

Severus leaned in and grabbed my hands with his, crushing my poor last snowballs to pieces. The clouds passed from the moon, and pale light illuminated our faces. Severus' cheeks were flushed, and he was breathing slightly heavily, but he was smiling.

"Did I win?" he asked quietly.

"It looks like it," I replied.

"You fell. Are you alright?" He was still holding my hands captive.

I didn't answer. I don't know what made me do it all of a sudden. I think some of it had to do with the vulnerability he had shown up in the Shack. Possibly it was the adrenaline still running through my blood. Maybe I just couldn't deny my feelings any longer.

I kissed Severus.

His lips were cold but soft. I kept mine pressed lightly against his for a brief moment then pulled back, pretty much horrified at what I had just done. I think I must have totally stunned him as well, because for several heartbeats he did nothing. His brow furrowed. Then he let go of my hands. Instantly I thought, _That's it. You've gone and done it. He's never going to want to keep you on the apprenticeship now._

But even before those thoughts had finished sinking into my heart, Severus leaned into me, slowly and hesitantly as though I were a forest creature he might startle, and kissed me back. His kiss was just as gentle as mine had been. Then suddenly, he pulled off his gloves and cupped my face in his warm hands, kissing me harder, more hungrily. I threw off my icy mittens and slid my arms up under his cloak, grasping his shoulders with my fingertips. Severus dropped one of his hands from my face and instead wrapped that arm around my back, cushioning it from the rough bark. With that hand he clutched the fabric of my coat as if scared I wasn't really there and needed more solid reassurance. I could feel the muscles of his back tauten as he pulled me closer to him.

After a minute we parted. Severus rested his cheek against the top of my hair and took my hands back into his, this time interlacing his fingers with mine. He kissed my forehead. As he moved in to kiss me again on the lips, I realized I was crying.

"What's wrong?" Severus whispered. Once more, he took my face in his hands, now slightly cooled by the brisk air, and wiped my tears away with his thumbs. I looked up into his dark eyes that were full of concern and unmistakable love.

"I'm ju… just so ha... happy…" I managed to choke out in between sobs. Severus laughed softly and pulled me tight against him once more, just as he had done in his office the day of the recent attack. And just as it had been that day, his heart pounded like music against my cheek.

He ran the fingers of one hand over my wet, snow-crusted hair and murmured, "I know how you feel."

I pulled away slightly so I could look him in the eyes once more. "I mean, is this really… _real_? Do you… really love me?"

Severus smiled then pressed his lips against my temple. "I have loved you from the very moment I saw you." He paused then added, "Although I must say, I did have a bruise on my shoulder the size of my fist after that."

I groaned in embarrassment. "I'm _sorry!_"

Severus laughed. It was a loud, healthy-sounding laugh I had never heard him use before. "I love you, Avrille," he said, pressing his forehead against mine. Tears started to flow from my eyes again, blurring my vision of him. Severus lightly kissed the trail the tears had made from my eyes down to the corners of my mouth. His fingertips softly caressed the space on my throat left bare above my scarf. I sincerely doubt he realized that he could have had all of me at that moment if he had wanted. His kiss had completely dissolved my remaining willpower. I wanted to be completely his.

From faraway the castle bell sounded nine o'clock. Severus straightened when he heard it and put his hands on my shoulders.

"I have patrol duty in an hour," he said.

I sighed heavily. The night seemed to have passed in an instant.

"We better go then," I said, smearing the last of my tears with my already damp sleeve. Severus still had his hands firmly on my shoulders.

"I don't want to go back yet. I don't want to leave you."

"I know," I said, taking his hands off of my shoulders and holding them at waist level. "But you have your duty to Professor Dumbledore."

"I'll go but… just one more kiss." Severus pulled me to him once more and kissed me passionately as though this night was the only time we would ever be together like this. Then Severus roughly pulled himself away and took a step back as though he didn't trust himself if he were near me.

"Cheer up, I'll see you at breakfast," I said, as much for my own conciliation as his. I ran a finger down his cheek.

"It won't be the same," he replied, almost angrily. Then he softened his tone, "We're going to have to be very careful." The remaining rush left in me from his kiss froze cold.

"I know."

Believe me, I had already been thinking about it. There were probably already at least some people who were suspicious of us. Everyone had seen Severus tell-off Lockhart at the Solstice Ball. Ok, that could have just seemed like Severus being chivalrous… But then Hagrid had seen us two together at the Three Broomsticks. Would Hagrid be inclined to gossip? Perhaps if he got enough beer into him… Professor Sprout had then seen us exiting the carriage together. But she had seemed too concerned with the mandrakes and the blizzard to really _notice_. Or had she just been being discreet? Half the population of Hogsmeade had just watched us pass through an hour ago, but everyone would most likely be too absorbed in their own holiday joys to take note of a couple of Hogwarts teachers. I chewed my thumbnail as I started to relive all of the time Severus and I had spent amongst the company of others within the last couple of weeks. Now that I knew for sure he _had_ been in love with me, our behaviour around each other seemed that much more obvious.

"Avrille…" Severus quiet baritone brought me back to the present. I looked up at him, probably with visible gears working behind my eyes. "We'll figure something out. For now let's just return to the castle." He held me close for one more minute then stepped back again. He bent over and retrieved our cast-offs, handing my mittens back to me after drying them with his wand. Without anything else to do, I started walking back toward the village, Severus at my heels.

"Wait," I said suddenly, stopping in my tracks. I turned around to face him. "If we're going to be careful, we'd better start now. You need to get back to the castle immediately. It might look strange if someone happens to see us walking all the way back from Hogsmeade together."

"That is a good point," Severus said.

I thought for a moment. "Why don't you head up by yourself. You can Apparate right to the castle gates. I'll think I'll try to get into the Three Broomsticks and have a drink or something to eat. How does that sound?"

"Will you be alright walking back by yourself? I'll be worried about you…" Severus asked with a protective edge to his voice that made me want to melt.

I laughed melodramatically and placed my fists on my hips in a superhero-like pose. "Me? I am the first woman in living memory to brave the dreaded Shrieking Shack! I can handle anything!"

Severus laughed his healthy-laugh again. "You're right. How daft of me to forget. I suppose I'll see you at breakfast tomorrow, then."

"You can bet on it!" I said and kissed him quickly on the cheek. I turned and started striding purposefully back toward town, trying to sort out my emotions so I wouldn't be a complete giggling and or crying mess while in the tavern.

"Avrille, wait!" Severus called before I had gotten very far. I turned to see him running toward me, his cloak billowing behind him. Dear Lord, he was sexy…

When he reached me, he grabbed my hand and pulled me behind a tree so we were blocked from the view of the path.

"What?" I huffed in feigned exasperation.

"Merry Christmas," Severus whispered and kissed me gently once more.

"I guess it will be after all," I replied with a smile and took off running away back in the direction of Hogsmeade before he could catch me again. I didn't turn back even after I passed the fork. I knew that if I looked back and saw Severus standing under the tree watching me, I wouldn't be able to leave him tonight after all.


	22. Chapter Twenty Two: SEVERUS

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

_Severus_

I cannot recall the walk back up to the castle that night; I only remember being utterly amazed I had managed to Apparate correctly to the gates. My mind was an absolute mess, my thoughts chaotic. All of a sudden Avrille had finally, though quite unexpectedly, ended the war that had been waging brutally within me for the past four months. I no longer had to fight against the slowly strengthening will to tell her of my feelings. Now she knew how madly in love with her I had fallen, although I doubt she understood how deep my love ran, and how I would willingly give my life to protect her.

For a brief moment, I smiled as I thought of how she must have been struggling with the same two conflicting forces: the desire to be truthful about the feelings growing within her against the knowledge that the revelation of those feelings could mean the end of her career if rebuffed by me. But my smile quickly faded from my lips, which had just moments before tasted Avrille for the first time, when I realised that, although inadvertently, I had for a time caused Avrille more pain. If she loved me even half as much as I did her, then these past few months must have seemed a never-ending torment. Yet, at least for her, that pain was now over. A more horrible thought was what pain I would have caused her had I not been reciprocating her feelings this entire time.

Knowing Avrille as I did, taking into account her sweet impulsiveness and honest nature I adored so much, it almost definitely would have been only a matter of time before she confessed herself to me, if it hadn't been tonight. This conjecture was even more substantial if one took into account the intense emotional strain she had most likely been under since her vision a few nights before, the strain thus rendering her even less able to fully appreciate the consequences of any serious action she might take.

If she had confessed her love to me and been rejected, it would have had much worse effects for her than if it had been the other way around. If I had acted in an unsolicited, inappropriate manner to an apprentice, it would have caused a scandal if discovered and at most meant a written reprimand in my employment file. But if Avrille had kissed me tonight, and I had not desired it (a seemingly unthinkable idea in itself, yet hypothetically possible I suppose…) I'm sure I would have reported it to the headmaster. Knowing myself, I would not have been able to continue to supervise her in an uncomfortable situation such as that. That meant unless Dumbledore was feeling extremely lenient, something presumably not the case these troublesome days, and allowed her to at least continue with her Herbology apprenticeship, Avrille would have been sent home in disgrace. A note would most certainly be placed in _her_ permanent record, severely hindering all of her future schooling and career prospects.

_But of course,_ I thought as I passed through the front doors to the castle, _that is _not_ the case. She loves you, and you love her even more in return. _Now_ what are you going to do?_

Honestly, I had no idea. If I were a completely virtuous, scrupulous man-that is, to say, an utter moron-I would go to the headmaster myself and asked to be relieved of my supervisory role over Avrille. I could tell him of my steadily growing affection for her and that I felt it was interfering with my ability to be impartial over her grading. But I was not the head of Slytherin House for nothing. To do that would be detrimental to Avrille's Potions degree at best and complete emotional suicide at worst. Dumbledore could still decide to have Avrille sent home.

I quickly came to the conclusion it would most benefit everyone all around to just keep it quiet. Dumbledore did not need another concern weighing on his mind right now. Avrille and I were hurting no one. I actually _was_ confident enough in my own objectivity concerning Avrille's supervision because her work was simply beyond reproach. Anyone reviewing her file could see that. I had already convinced myself of that when I had been filling out her evaluation a few days prior. No, there was really no need for us to reveal our affair. If we handled this correctly, Avrille and I could have a very happy rest of the school year, pending any further attacks from "The Heir of Slytherin," of course.

The castle was totally silent as I entered the front hall. The handful of students who had remained behind for Christmas were all securely in their dormitories. My fellow teachers were most likely asleep with the warm feeling of relief that comes after one has turned in one's term marks and the knowledge that the morrow holds nothing but relaxation. Except for, of course, those of us who had patrol duty. I had to admit I loved the castle the most at times like this when I alone walked the echoing corridors. When I was at school here, I had often snuck out of the dormitory in the middle of the night to wander through the corridors or read in the library, hungry for a few hours of complete silence and solitude.

Finally back in my own rooms, I slid out of my wet cloak and changed into my school-robes. As I glanced in the mirror, I was glad to see that at least I did not look as scattered as I felt, but then, of course, masking emotion was something I considered myself a master at. I was too restless to read or find some other occupation for the remainder of the time before my shift began, so I set out to find Francis in order to relieve him ahead of schedule. Francis was quite easily located on the first floor once I heard the tell-tale thumping of his wooden leg. He was surprised by my early appearance and accepted my offer of relief most happily. As soon as I heard Francis making his way up the stairs to his rooms, I descended back down to the dungeons to make my first round.

After making a thorough inspection of the dungeon halls and classrooms, I headed up to the entrance hall once more. Here I lingered as long as I dared, hoping perhaps I might see Avrille come back from Hogsmeade. When she did not appear within a reasonable amount of time, I regretfully began a tour of the ground floor. Everything was as it should be. Most of the portrait occupants were "sleeping" and only occasionally opened a bleary eye as I passed with my wand alight.

The time passed very unevenly. Sometimes I grew impatient and felt at least an hour must have passed only to check my watch and see it had not even been a quarter of that time. Then more than once, I found myself in a certain classroom or corridor, unable to remember exactly how I had gotten there and surprised to see a half-hour had disappeared seemingly in an instant. I would then have to retrace my steps back to where I could last remember having inspected and start the route over again. All in all it was not an unpleasant duty to perform. It was breath-taking to think that Avrille was only a floor or two above me, perhaps still awake and thinking of me just as I was of her.

At two thirty on the dot, Filius found me in the Great Hall to take over the patrol. I had no report for him. The shift had been silent, and there had been nothing out of the ordinary, not that I had really expected there to be. After bidding Filius a good night and a Happy Christmas, I proceeded to my rooms.

I had just finished dressing for bed and was searching for a good book to read when I heard a quiet knock. Pulling on a robe, I quickly walked to the door, assuming it was Filius with a question before he began his patrol. I opened it and was stunned to see Avrille in front of me. She did not look well, but then again she rather hadn't earlier in the evening either. She was also dressed for bed with a pale blue dressing gown belted loosely over a soft-looking cotton shirt and trousers.

"Avrille!" I exclaimed. I was surprised, though immensely pleased, to see her again so soon. I also had no idea that she knew where my rooms were. "Is everything all right?"

She smiled wanly. "I'm sorry to bother you," she said quietly. "I knew you'd probably still be awake since your patrol just ended. I figured you wouldn't mind if I came by."

"Of course not," I said and took her hand. It was still amazing to me that I could do that; I could just touch her whenever I wanted now. "Why don't you come in?" I stepped aside for her to enter, glancing down the corridor quickly as she passed me.

As if reading my mind, Avrille said, "I didn't see anyone coming down, don't worry."

I closed the door behind us and bolted it for good measure. "I'm more concerned about you being out alone in the middle of the night-" I had begun to say when Avrille turned and threw her arms around my neck. Perfectly happy with being interrupted this way, I pulled her closer and rested my cheek against her silken hair. It was so unthinkable that only hours ago I was just arriving back at Hogwarts and basically terrified of whether, once more, I would be unable to hide my burning passion for Avrille while we were alone in Hogsmeade. Now here we were together, in my rooms for that matter, and I was completely at ease.

Avrille raised her head and kissed me slowly and sweetly. If I had not known her to be distressed by something, I would have been content to stay like that all night. As soon as I could bear to, I pulled away from her slightly so I could look her in the eyes.

"_Are_ you all right?" I asked.

"No, actually, I'm really not." Avrille sighed and dropped her forehead against my chest.

"You haven't been sleeping, have you?" I asked quietly.

Avrille's gaze shot up to mine in surprise. "How did you know?"

I ran a fingertip down the side of her face. "Although your stunning beauty remains unchanged…" I traced the dark circles under her eyes for emphasis.

Avrille smiled, and for a moment the ghostly pallor hovering over her features faded, but it soon returned as her expression fell into one of frustration.

"I haven't been able to sleep at night since I had that dream about Justin." She took a step away from me, her hands swallowed by her plush sleeves as she wrapped her arms protectively around herself. "I don't know _why,_ but I am just so scared of having another one. I've been napping a bit during the day, but I guess you can tell that hasn't helped much.

"Have you gone to see Madam Pomfrey? Or tried a sleeping potion?" I asked.

Avrille shook her head. "No, I didn't feel like getting into the whole reason with Madam Pomfrey about why I couldn't sleep. I didn't want anyone else to know about my visions but you." I was honoured that Avrille had trusted me above all others to reveal her secret.

"As for a potion," she continued, "I really wasn't up to making one. I was so tired that I probably would have ended up poisoning myself."

"You could have asked me. I would have been happy to help you," I said.

Avrille smiled again. "Yes, well, our last couple of meetings had ended pretty awkwardly, and I didn't want to bother you again."

I smiled as well. At the time, trying to kiss Avrille in the carriage had seemed like the stupidest thing I could have ever tried to do. It was rather funny now to realise Avrille had probably been angry at me for not following through with it.

"Well," I said, taking her in my arms again, "why don't I give you something now. I actually have some Draught of Living Death here. A few drops in some water will put you into a dreamless sleep instantly."

"That would be wonderful," Avrille sighed and rested her cheek on my shoulder. But she quickly brought her head up again saying, "Wait a minute. Why would you have something like _that_ in your room?"

"Let's just say you weren't the only one having a hard time sleeping," I said with a devilish grin. "And there's something _I_ would like to know: How is it you knew where my rooms were in the first place?"

Avrille's cheeks went pink. "I actually followed you once after a class," she finally admitted. I raised my eyebrows in amusement. "I haven't been stalking you or anything! It was only once, and I was just curious…"

"I'm glad that you did," I said, brushing a strand of hair from her hot face. "Shall I get the potion for you?"

Avrille hesitated, picking at the knit texture of my robe with her fingernails. "Actually… I was wondering…" she said quietly with her eyes slightly downcast. "Would it be totally brazen of me to ask if I could spend the night here?"

I was shocked, more because of her boldness than the nature of the request. Actually, I was mostly stunned things were moving so quickly. Not that I minded _that _of course. It was fair to say that I had been imagining her spending the night with me ever since we met. However, I had been too afraid of coming off as a blackguard to make any such suggestion when she had first admitted to not being able to sleep.

Avrille must have taken my pause for offence because she quickly added, "It's not that I _want _to. I mean, I _do _want to… it's just… I'm really worried that maybe the potion isn't strong enough to block out the visions, and if I _did_ have one, I'd feel so much better knowing you were right there with me."

I kissed her passionately for a response. Avrille immediately relaxed, and her body melded to mine. After satiating some of my desire, I whispered in her ear, "Is that enough of an answer?" I felt Avrille sigh softly against my bare neck.

I once more brushed away some of her hair that had fallen across her eyes. "You can sleep in my bed," I said at a normal volume. "The sofa will be plenty comfortable enough for me."

Avrille gazed shyly up at me. "I don't mind if you want to sleep in the bed, too…"

"No," I replied, immediately banishing that highly tempting notion from my mind. "I think it better if I do not." I gave her a pointed look which made her blush again.

"We should settle in now. It's late," I said, walking away towards my bedroom, praying she wouldn't make that offer again. I didn't think I had the resolve to refuse her a second time, and I knew if I was even in the same _room_ as her I would never get to sleep. Avrille followed me through the door to my bedchamber. I was beyond thankful that everything was tidy and clean.

"The washroom is right through there," I said motioning to the closed door to our right. "Why don't you make yourself comfortable, and I'll prepare the potion." I turned to exit, then remembered something.

"Forgive me, I know this is an absolutely taboo question to ask a lady, but what is your weight? I need to know for the dosage."

"Around a hundred and twenty pounds? Give or take a couple," Avrille replied. I was glad she knew because I had no idea what the average woman weighed. I nodded and left the room, closing the door behind me so Avrille could have some privacy while preparing for bed.

I quickly retrieved the needed potion on the shelf where I always kept it. I wished I could take some myself since, even though we would be separated, it was going to be extremely difficult for me to get much rest tonight. I decided to abstain since I wanted to be fully alert in the rare event Avrille woke early and needed me. I quickly calculated the dose, taking into account her weight, age, and desired effectiveness, figuring she should get at least twelve hours to make up for all the sleep she had missed during the week. I poured a glass of water then carefully squeezed out six drops of the potion, swilling the solution gently. I knocked on the door, and Avrille called that she was ready. After taking a deep breath, I re-entered the bedroom.

I had not been sure what the effect of seeing Avrille in my bed would be on me. Now as I saw her, with the sheet draped loosely over her slim form and her russet hair spread out over one of my pillows, I knew I had been insane to even consider the possibility I could be in that bed with her. I was seriously considering making her lock me out now.

I discreetly shook my head slightly to clear it. Avrille sat up as I entered.

"Here you are," I said and handed her the glass.

Avrille took it from me and gazed down at the solution which was glittering faintly in the candlelight. Then she shifted slightly over towards the middle of the bed. "Will you stay with me until I'm asleep?" she asked and reached out to me with her free hand.

"Of course," I replied, taking her hand and sitting beside her. "Are you warm enough? Do you need anything else?"

Avrille shook her head and smiled. "I'm fine… wonderful, in fact." She raised the glass to her mouth, but paused just before it touched her lips. "Severus?"

"Yes?" I whispered.

"Thank you." Avrille drank the water and held out the glass, which I quickly took. With a contended sigh, she slid back down under the covers, still holding my hand tight. As she took her next breath, her eyes gently fluttered closed, and her head fell slack against the pillow. Her hand relaxed and fell out of mine. I remained seated there for a few minutes, watching her peaceful face and silently counting the number of times her chest gently rose and fell. Then I stood and set the empty glass on the nightstand. Leaning over Avrille slightly, I placed two fingers on her throat to check her pulse. Satisfied that it was well within a safe range, I brushed back her fringe and lightly kissed her forehead. I extinguished most of the candles but left a couple dimly lit so Avrille would be able to see where she was when she woke up.

I left the bedroom and closed the door behind me. I did not now feel the need to lock it; the vision of my Avrille sleeping peacefully had chased all lustful thoughts from my mind. I lay down on the sofa and doused the torches while at the same time lighting a small fire in the hearth. I Conjured a pillow and blanket then rolled over to watch the flames, an old trick I used to utilise as child to fall asleep.

I stared into the fire. My heart was once again in the same state of conflict as it had been earlier when Avrille had kissed me for the first time. I was undeniably the happiest I had ever been in my life, yet hovering over that joy was the ominous shadow of the unknown. I had not even bothered to think about the Death Wish again until recently. It had been ten years since my father spoke the curse, but I had no idea if the effects were still on me. He had been severely weakened when the curse was invoked, and my father had never been much at magic anyway. Nevertheless, I had not been with a woman since that night. Now I had Avrille right here with me, troubled by some fears for the moment, but generally as happy as I was.

We had only just declared our love for each other a few hours ago, but thoughts of the future were already heavily on me. I was not yet completely sure how deep her affection for me ran, but I knew for myself that Avrille was the woman with whom I wanted to spend the rest of my life. There would be no other but her. The thing I wanted most in the world now was to know for sure that she felt the same way about me. However, as soon as that was understood, it would be the end of everything. We could not be together as I wanted so long as the status of my curse was unknown. But things were moving quickly… Far more quickly than I could have ever imagined. My God, Avrille was in my _bed_ right now…

I sighed, rolled over, and extinguished the fire in the grate. That technique was apparently not going to help tonight. Even though the fire was out, I could still see the orange glow and feel the warmth on my closed eyelids. Avrille loved me. That was all that mattered right now. Things would work out somehow, and it was no use dwelling over it. I repeated those words over and over like a mantra until somehow, eventually, I fell asleep.


	23. Chapter Twenty Three: AVRILLE

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

_Avrille_

The first time I awoke, I had no idea where I was or what had happened. My muddled mind had the vague notion it was Christmas morning, and I was incredibly happy for some reason. But… how old was I? Was my mom going to come in any moment and pull open the curtains? Was I in my dorm room at the Boston Witches' Academy? Before I could connect two thoughts together, a wave of drowsiness washed over me once more, and I fell back asleep.

The next time I woke up, I was much more lucid. My eyes focused on the rich forest-green bed curtains, and I instantly recalled where I was. I had absolutely no idea how long I had been asleep; the room was still quite dark except for a corner where a couple of low burning candles flickered. With a deep sigh of contentment, I rolled over onto my stomach. I buried my face in the decadently soft pillowcase, inhaling the exotic, sweet-musky scent of Severus' cologne. My body still felt languid, but my mind was clearer than it had been all week. Although I probably could have dozed off once more, I jumped out of the bed in excitement. Today was Christmas morning and all I wanted was Severus.

I hurried into the bathroom and splashed some cool water over my face. I tried to smooth my hair down the best I could since I didn't see a comb or brush I could borrow, and I wasn't about to go digging through the drawers. Looking in the mirror, I was pleased to see how nice and refreshed I actually looked. That potion seemed to have worked a miracle. Unable to remain apart from Severus a moment longer, I belted my robe over my pyjamas and opened the door separating us.

My first impression was that the sitting room looked exactly as it had the night before, and for a moment I wondered if I had fallen asleep at all. Then I saw Severus sitting in an armchair by the hearth, reading a newspaper. His jet hair was once more tied back in a neat tail as it had been last night when I came here, giving me a delicious view of his neck and chiselled jaw line. He was now fully dressed, looking exceptionally handsome in a tailored black suit, which told me that at least some time _had_ passed. He looked up as I entered the room and his face lit up with a smile.

"Did you sleep well?" he asked, folding the paper in half and tossing it onto the coffee table in front of him.

"Yes, I feel so much better," I replied, closing the bedroom door behind me quickly. I suddenly felt a little guilty over not making the bed. "What time is it?" I asked, unable to hold back a yawn.

Severus glanced at a clock on the fireplace mantel, the face of which I could not read from there. "Almost four…" he said.

"In the afternoon? Are you serious?" I covered my mouth with my hand in surprise.

Severus laughed and walked over. "You needed it," he said, kissing my forehead and embracing me. I closed my eyes and let myself be held for a moment, relishing once more the scent of Severus' cologne as I rested my head on his shoulder. There was another delicious smell in the room too, but I couldn't place it until I felt my stomach rumble.

"Forgive me, you must be starving!" Severus said. I guess my stomach had been quite loud after all. "I have breakfast for you… unless you're feeling more like lunch now? I can have something else sent down." With an arm still around my waist, he guided me to a small table near some heavy velvet curtains that were tightly drawn. On the table was a large covered platter from which the most heavenly fragrance was wafting. Severus pulled out a chair for me, and as I sat he removed the cover to reveal steaming scrambled eggs, buttery wheat toast, a bowl of fresh blueberries and strawberries, a tall glass of orange juice, and a hot pot of coffee.

"Mmmm… all my favourites," I commented. "How did you know?"

"Well, I _have_ been watching you eat for four months," Severus replied as he Vanished the cover and sat down across from me.

"Aren't you going to have anything?" I asked while pouring myself some much-appreciated coffee.

"I did already a while ago. And, incidentally, you might not want to eat _too_ much because we should make an appearance at Christmas dinner in two hours."

"Mm-hmm," I agreed while sipping the perfectly brewed coffee. Severus Summoned his paper to the table with a graceful flick of his wrist (making me extremely jealous since I couldn't do that even_ with_ a wand…) and laid it flat in front of him. I was just about to ask him if there was anything interesting in the news when a horrible, panicked thought flashed through my mind.

"Oh my God!" I gasped and dropped the piece of toast that I had been holding.

Severus' head jerked up from the paper. "What?" he exclaimed. "Are you alright?"

I looked across the table at him, my eyes open wide in horror. "How am I supposed to get back to my room? It's four in the afternoon, and I'm wearing a bathrobe!"

Severus burst out laughing.

"It's _not_ funny!" I insisted, banging on the table with an open palm for emphasis. "I am _not_ supposed to be here right now!"

Severus finally managed to get a hold of himself. "You can take the Floo back to your room," he said hoarsely and pointed to the lit fireplace. "I connected our two rooms this morning."

"Oh." I picked up my toast once more and bit into it, feeling pretty silly. Severus was still smiling at me. I had to admit it was wonderful to see him smile so much, but I rather wished it didn't have to be because of me saying dumb things. Nevertheless, at the risk of sounding stupid again, I swallowed my toast and asked the question I had been thinking since I had woken up.

"It's still completely dark in here… Are we totally underground, then?" I asked. It was hard to tell with the dungeons exactly where you were because there were so many twists and turns. Because the castle was on a cliff, some of the dungeon classrooms had small windows while others had none, and since Severus' room had such large windows, it made me curious.

"Not exactly," Severus replied and reached behind to tug at one of the drapes. He managed to pull it slightly open so that I could see a thin line of cloudy blue-green.

"That's amazing!" I said. The window's view led directly into the lake, well under the top layer of ice. "Do you ever see merfolk?" I asked.

"Sometimes. Once in a while the little ones will swim up, maybe when their parents are hunting. Hence the curtains." He let the drape fall back into place, and the room became dimmer once more.

"Well, even though it's a little dark, I think your rooms are beautiful," I said. It was the truth. All of the furniture was a rich, lustrous mahogany upholstered in green brocade so dark it looked nearly black. Almost every inch of the walls, even in the bedroom, was lined with massive bookcases filled to capacity with ancient-looking tomes and newer textbooks. The remaining wall space held luxurious Renaissance-style tapestries and oil paintings.

"Thank you," Severus replied. "I'm glad you think so."

_Maybe because you hope I'll be spending a lot of time here? _I thought privately with a small smile as I pierced my eggs. _I hope I will as well…_

Severus picked up his newspaper once more, and I finished eating my breakfast in silence. I was so happy I could barely swallow. I really felt like we were a husband and wife having breakfast together on Christmas morning, even though it was the middle of the afternoon and Severus wasn't eating. I was so hungry from sleeping so long that I did finish all of the food, confident I would still have plenty of room in my stomach to eat dinner in a few hours' time. When he saw I had finished, Severus Vanished the plate and his newspaper. I sat back contentedly in my chair and stretched.

"Should I get going?" I asked.

Severus stood and held out a hand to help me rise. "Not yet. I can't bear to part with your company so soon, and there are a few things I would like to discuss with you," he said and led me over to the couch in front of the fire where I assumed he had spent the night. I sat, next him but still facing him at the same time. Severus still had my hand in his, and he kissed it gently while looking deep into my eyes.

"Actually, before I start on that," he said, brushing back behind my ear a stray tendril of hair that had escaped my hasty bun, "I have something for you. For Christmas, if you'll allow me…"

My heart sank. I had, of course, considered getting something for Severus, but in the end decided against it on the grounds that, since he was my supervisor, it might sort of seem like bribery.

My face must have fallen visibly because he hastily added, "Please don't concern yourself if you don't have anything for me. I've had this for a while and wanted to give it to you, but I didn't have the courage to send it to you anonymously. Besides, having you here with me is the only thing I could ever want."

With that said he jumped up and grabbed a small wrapped package I had not noticed off of the mantel. He seemed almost as excited as me as he dropped back down on the couch. He placed an arm around me as he handed me the gift with the other. I no longer felt guilty about not having a present for him. Just feeling the soft weight of his arm around my shoulders would have been enough of a Christmas gift for me as well. The package _was_ a nice bonus though…

I stared at the gift in my hands. It was so beautifully wrapped in shining silver paper and white silk ribbon that I almost didn't want to open it. I carefully untied the ribbons and set them aside, wanting to save them forever. Next, I gently pulled apart the paper so as not to rip it and revealed a small, brown velvet box.

I kissed Severus quickly and said, "Thank you."

He looked at me in slight confusion. "You haven't even opened it yet."

"I know! But I'm sure that I'm going to love it, so I wanted to say thank you now." I was not disappointed when I opened the box. Inside were two stunningly gorgeous hair combs exquisitely carved from red-lacquered wood. Their delicate scalloped edges were detailed with cherry blossoms made of inlaid mother-of-pearl and gold. They were so beautiful that I couldn't speak for a moment.

"Do you like them?" Severus asked in a slightly worried voice over my lack of speech.

"They're the most beautiful things I've ever owned," I whispered and touched one with my fingertip. I was terrified of taking them out of the box. Severus sighed in relief.

"May I?" he asked. I handed the box to him, thankful that the responsibility of having something so precious was literally out of my hands for the moment. He placed the box on his lap and turned my head away from him. With a movement so quick I barely felt it, he loosened my bun so my hair tumbled down my back. Then gently, section by section, he worked out the snarls with one of the combs. The movement of his fingers against my scalp and the comb gliding through my hair was so relaxing that I could have easily fallen back asleep.

Once my hair was tangle-free, Severus separated out a lock, wound it into a twist and secured it just behind my ear with the comb. He then did the same thing to the other side. When he was finished he reached around and, with his fingers placed tenderly against my cheek, turned my face back to him. He nodded once, satisfied with his handiwork.

"How did you learn to do that?" I asked as I gently felt over my head. The combs were wedged strongly in the twists without pulling any hairs. The rest of my hair felt smooth and silky with no bumps or flyaways. Severus looked embarrassed for a moment. I could understand why he would be; I would never have believed it if someone had told me Hogwarts' stern Potions master also knew how to dress hair.

"My mother, actually, used to wear her hair like this sometimes. Occasionally she would ask me to help her. Her hair was slightly longer than yours, you see…" he trailed off.

"I'm sure it looks wonderful," I said and wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him deeply. "Is it alright if I leave it like this for dinner?"

"Of course," he replied, looking up at the clock unconsciously. I did as well to see that it was already half past the hour.

"What did you want to talk about?" I asked, knowing I should return to my rooms soon to get changed. I moved the box and wrappings aside so they wouldn't be crushed.

"I thought perhaps we should establish some rules," Severus replied. I had to work very hard to keep a straight face; it was so like Severus to think of rules even for a relationship.

"Okay… What did you have in mind?"

"Well, first off, as much as I want you to, I do not think you should come down here very often at night. At least, not for the entire night."

"I know," I said nodding. "You probably won't get much sleep on the couch, and I know that you wouldn't let _me_ sleep on the couch, so…"

"Well, yes, but I am thinking also in the case there is an emergency in the school. The last thing we want is for someone to try and wake one of us and find we are not where we are supposed to be."

"That's a good point," I sighed. I was already hoping maybe I could spend the night again after dinner and perhaps convince Severus to sleep in the bed with me. There was nothing I wanted more than to fall asleep in his arms.

"Secondly," Severus continued, "I do not think that we should… be intimate unless we are behind a closed door and most preferably in one of our private rooms. Do you agree with that?" Again I sighed but nodded. I knew he was right but it was going to be torture to not kiss him even when I was _sure_ no one was looking.

"This relates to that, but lastly I need to make it clear that when we are out in public, sometimes I am going to have be…" He paused, searching for the right word, "…brusque with you." Severus said this quietly and I knew from his tone of voice the thought pained him. "I'm afraid recently I was often letting my guard down too often when you were near. I couldn't help it; you had that effect on me. But now it's going to be even harder, and I think, at least at first, it would be better if we do not speak too much while in the presence of others. I'm not saying we should stop talking altogether, which would look suspicious in itself, just… not often."

I took Severus' hands in mine. "I promise I won't be offended. And you don't need to worry about me. Did I ever tell you I was the president of the Drama Club at the Boston Witches' Academy?"

Severus smiled. "No, you did not. And I'm not worried about you. I am saying all of these things because I worry for myself."

"Well, I won't let you break a rule. You can't if I don't _let_ you kiss me, now can you?" I knew that was a stupid thing to say as soon as it was out of my mouth. I was asking for trouble.

Indeed, Severus leaned toward me and in a low, seductive whisper asked, "What will you do if I kiss you anyway? Put me in detention?"

"No," I replied sharply and placed my hands on his chest to push him away just as he was about to kiss me once more, "I'll make you sit next to Lockhart at dinner."

Severus froze and took on a look of horror so genuine I actually wasn't sure if he was pretending or not. "You _wouldn't_!" he gasped. "That is _too_ cruel, Avrille…" But then, as I was sitting there staring at him and wondering whether or not to _apologize,_ he leaned in before I could stop him and kissed me passionately. Since I had absolutely no willpower, I let him get away with it, knowing also that in a few minutes I would have to go and start preparing myself to act like none of this had happened. But I did draw the line when he started to kiss my neck.

"No you don't…" I said and pulled away. "I have to go get dressed." Severus sighed and sat back against the couch. "Are there any _other_ rules you would like to lay down so you can break them?" I asked playfully.

"There _is_ one other thing I would like to talk to you about," Severus said, completely serious all of a sudden. "Something quite important I've been considering for a few days, but we don't have time now. It has nothing to do with 'us,' per se, so it can wait a little while. Even though I just said we shouldn't do this, will you come back down here tonight? Perhaps around nine o'clock?"

"Of course I will," I replied, already trying to think of a way to convince him to let me stay the whole night again. "Should I take the Floo down?"

"Yes, if you would." Severus stood and held out his hand to help me rise. "I would always take it from now on. We cannot risk someone seeing you walk down."

I rose then gathered up the box and wrappings to take with me. I immediately moved next to the fireplace to signal I was ready to go. In truth, I wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible, because at the moment there was nothing I wanted more than to push Severus back down onto the couch and mess up that perfect-looking suit of his. Perhaps he was feeling something along the same lines because he quickly held out to me a small carved urn from the mantel containing Floo powder.

"I'll see you in a little bit," I said, taking a pinch of the Floo powder with my free hand. Severus nodded but didn't say anything. I threw the powder into the hearth so the flames shot up blazing green then stepped into them. In a clear voice I said, "Avrille Asphodel's room!" and within a whirling second I was there. I missed Severus already.

It only took me a little while to freshen up and change clothes, so I spent the remaining time before dinner opening the few Christmas presents that had been placed at the foot of my bed. It was nice to have presents, but I was really so happy already that I wouldn't have cared if I had received nothing. Caligula had been rather icy toward me when I arrived back. I had not been apart from him that long since we had come to Hogwarts together. However, he soon forgave me after I presented him with his Christmas gifts consisting of a package of toy mice made from rabbit fur and a small catnip plant, both of which he immediately began tearing to pieces with playful growls.

A few minutes before six o'clock, I started to make my way down to the Great Hall. I was feeling pretty anxious since this first test of our discretion would occur amidst the majority of the staff and a decent number of students. I knew Severus would be fine; indeed he had hidden his feelings toward me most skilfully until a few days prior. I also knew that I had no choice but to perform perfectly as well. This was the price we were going to have to pay to spend a few hours alone together later.

As I descended into the entry hall, I saw Fred and George Weasley huddled together at the foot of the stairs, whispering animatedly to each other. I could see they were wearing new Christmas sweaters, knit with the letters "F" and "G" in snowflakes, which I thought were absolutely adorable. George suddenly broke away from his twin with a nod and hurried over to the open doors of the Great Hall. He peered in and seemed to be looking for someone… his brother Ron, perhaps? Fred was so distracted watching George that he didn't even notice me until I was right next to him.

"Good evening, Fred," I said.

Fred noticeably jumped and spun to face me with his eyes open wide. He seemed totally stunned for some reason and looked furtively to George, who had heard me and quickly scampered over.

"Good evening, Mistress Asphodel!" George said in a loud and extra-jovial voice.

I looked expectantly at Fred. When he was still silent, George jabbed an elbow into his brother's side, making Fred breathe something that sounded like, "Oomph… evenin'…"

"Is everything alright?" I asked, a little concerned over their strange behaviour. George had an enormous forced smile plastered across his face. Fred was still staring at me as though he had never seen me before. Both of their freckled faces were glowing brick-red.

"Er… yeah. Fred's just… got a stomach-ache. All that Christmas candy, you see…" George grabbed Fred by the arm and started to physically pull him toward the Great Hall.

"Okay… Well, you two have a Merry Christmas," I said, still standing at the base of the staircase.

"Right! You_ too!_" George called back over his shoulder.

Fred groaned loudly then turned to his twin and muttered, "I'm gonna be sick…"

"_Shut up!_" George hissed between gritted teeth as he dug in with his elbow once more. "Too much candy!" he called back to me again in the super-cheery voice, even though I had moved away from the stairs and was only a few feet behind them now as they entered the Great Hall.

"George… I can't handle this!" Fred moaned and pawed at his brother's hand that was still holding his arm fast.

"_Just don't think about it!_" George turned and gave me one more huge, dopey smile before dragging his brother off to the Gryffindor table. They dropped down a little ways away from Ron, who was already there with Harry and Hermione, and started up what looked like a heated, whispered argument with each other. I had no idea what to make of it. It was almost as if they knew… No. That was impossible. I summed it up as just the inexplicable behaviour of teenage boys.

The Weasley twins were almost instantly pushed from my mind as I made my way to the staff table at the far end of the hall. It was impossible for me not to notice Severus was already there, although I tried my best to focus my attention away from him and look for an empty seat at the other end of the table. Unfortunately, Lavinia, who was sitting only a couple chairs down from Severus, spotted me and joyfully waved me over.

"I saved you a seat!" she called. I sighed and walked up the stairs toward her, hoping some other teachers would soon arrive to fill in the space between Severus and me. When I reached her, Lavinia rose and gave me a hug. Her cheeks were bright pink, and it seemed like she had already started on the holiday wine.

"Happy Christmas!" she proclaimed and motioned for me to sit next to her. "Thank you so much for your gift! It was so sweet of you to remember." I had given Lavinia a pair of earrings I had seen her admire in a shop window once when we were in Hogsmeade. She in turn had given me a beautiful cashmere shawl.

"Thank you for your present, too," I replied. "It was so beautiful!"

"I thought it would be useful. I know how cold those dungeons can be during the winter."

We settled into our chairs. Severus glanced at me as I sat and gave me a curt nod before turning back to his conversation with Professor McGonagall. Once his attention was diverted, Lavinia rolled her eyes at me then burst out laughing. She poured me some wine which I gratefully sipped, hoping a little might help settle my nerves. As I bent my head to arrange my napkin on my lap, Lavinia noticed my hair.

"Oh, those are lovely!" Lavinia said, pointing at the combs. "Look that way so I can see them better. Were they a gift?"

"Yes, from my mother," I replied immediately. As I turned my head away from her and toward Severus, I could tell from his posture that he had been listening, though to his credit he had not missed a beat in his own conversation.

"Well, she has exquisite taste," Lavinia said. I had to fight back a smile before turning back to face her. I hoped Severus had heard that as well. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Professor Dumbledore entering the hall from the back door, escorting five people I had never seen before: four adults and one tiny little boy with white-blonde hair. While all four adults looked sombre, the little boy was looking around the Great Hall excitedly as though trying to take in every single detail. All of them were wearing Muggle clothes.

"Who're they?" I asked Lavinia, pointing discreetly at them.

Lavinia's bubbly attitude sobered instantly. "Those are the Creevys and the Finch-Fletchleys," she said gravely. "Professor Dumbledore invited them to spend the day here at the castle so they could see Colin and Justin."

Professor Dumbledore showed the two families to seats at the far end of the staff table. Fortunately, enough staff were away on holiday to accommodate them. When she saw they were seated, Professor McGonagall excused herself from Severus' side and went to go talk to the blonde family, presumably Colin's parents and little brother.

Once Professor McGonagall was seated next to Mrs. Creevy, Professor Dumbledore stood and welcomed everyone to the Christmas Feast. I barely took in a word of his short speech, my eyes focused on the bowed heads of Mr. and Mrs. Finch-Fletchley. Justin's mom's eyeliner was smudged, and the rims around his dad's eyes were bright red. Even though I knew there had been nothing I could have done, I still felt horrible watching them and knowing I had foreseen the attack on their son. Severus glanced at me, seeing me staring at them, and I'm sure guessed my thoughts. He frowned slightly, but obviously couldn't say anything to me.

Once Professor Dumbledore took his seat again, the tables in the hall suddenly creaked under the weight of dozens of different main dishes. I took a bit of turkey and mashed potatoes, but found I had little appetite, having nothing to do with my "breakfast" a couple hours prior. Lavinia, always so chatty and cheerful, sat beside me now silent and withdrawn. Severus filled his plate, but sat staring at it distractedly. The Finch-Fletchleys took no food at all.


	24. Chapter Twenty Four: SEVERUS

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

_Severus_

Dinner had been an absolute torture. I had never really liked Christmas, probably since I did not have the happy family memories most people treasured of the holiday. Nevertheless, as a professor, I felt it my duty to attend the school Christmas dinners, though it usually took more than a few glasses of wine for me to make it through all of the nauseating carolling and plum pudding. This year had a different overtone, of course, with the parents of the petrified students in the hall. Dumbledore still led the students in several rounds of Christmas carols, and everywhere the flash and bang of Christmas crackers drove one to distraction, but on the whole the celebrations were much more sedate than in past years.

After dinner I returned directly to my rooms to await Avrille, who would not be coming for another hour. I passed the time by pacing back and forth in front of the fireplace, checking it every few seconds in case I saw a flash of green signalling an early arrival of Avrille. While I paced, I ran through mentally over and over what I was going to say to her. However, no matter how many times I said the words to myself, I couldn't make the end picture of Avrille's horrified face change. There simply was no delicate way of telling the love of your life that you used to be a Death Eater.

At five of nine, I heard a quiet knock at my door. For a split instant, I thought perhaps Avrille had forgotten to take the Floo, but just as I turned away from the fireplace, the firelight turned green. I looked back to see Avrille stepping out from the hearth with a grin on her face. I quickly held a finger up to my lips to silence her, then walked over to the door.

Upon opening it I saw Gregory Goyle and Vincent Crabbe standing in the corridor, holding their shoes in their hands and rubbing their foreheads as though they hurt.

"What is it?" I asked curtly, incredibly annoyed at being bothered at this time of night.

"I… I don't know, sir…" Goyle muttered, still massaging his temple. "Someone stole our shoes."

"What are you talking about, Goyle? Your shoes are in your hand!" I snapped. Goyle looked down and seemed genuinely surprised to see the shoes there after all. Crabbe seemed about to fall over and was barely able to keep his eyes open. It appeared the two of them were somehow filled with a different kind of Christmas spirit and were stone drunk.

"Get back to your dormitories," I ordered, "And be glad I'm not docking points for disturbing me." I slammed the door in their faces then stormed back into the parlour where Avrille was waiting for me, still standing beside the fireplace.

"What was that?" she asked with raised eyebrows.

"I don't know, and I don't care," I replied and flung myself down onto the sofa. My true desire had been to take Avrille in my arms and drown myself in the sweetness of her lips, but I knew if I allowed myself to do that, I would lose the little bit of resolve I had mustered. Avrille sat down quietly beside me and seemed to be waiting for me to speak. The only noise in the room was the faint, regular ticking of the clock on the mantel. I listened to it, telling myself that in ten seconds I would tell her. In five seconds. In three…

I felt like my lips were soldered together. The past twenty-four hours had been the happiest of my life, and I knew what I was about to say could end it all.

Finally I forced myself to murmur, "I have to tell you something. Something that will most likely shock and disturb you."

I stared fixedly at Avrille's shoulder, unable to bear seeing the mixture of horror and disgust in her calm eyes that I normally saw in he looks of others whenever the phrase "Death Eater" was mentioned. Avrille took my hand in both of hers. Yet, instead of comforting me, feeling her soft warmth made me want to break away from her. I felt like I would contaminate her if she were touching me when I divulged my secret. But knowing it would probably just hurt her if I took it away, I let my hand lay limply between hers.

"I... used to be a Death Eater."

Still looking at Avrille's shoulder, I watched her body for any physical reaction. She remained still, though her hands squeezed mine a little tighter. She didn't say anything right away, which I hoped meant she was willing to hear an explanation. I decided to try and talk it out.

"It was a long time ago. I was young and foolish. I had just returned from Italy, and it seemed as if every one of my old friends from Hogwarts had joined up with the Dark Lord. I didn't have any other connections, I felt lost, so I allowed myself to become entangled in the whole sordid affair. There is nothing else in my life of which I am more deeply ashamed. I cannot emphasise enough how much it disgusts me to have to tell you this, but I felt that hiding it any longer from you would be deceitful."

Avrille stopped me by taking my chin in her fingers and moving my head so I had to look her in the eyes. Her brow was furrowed, but she didn't appear to be angry.

"This has been killing you inside, hasn't it?" she asked tenderly. I was so surprised by the worry in her tone that it took me a moment to comprehend the words she said. I couldn't believe that all she seemed to care about was how upset _I _was having to tell _her_.

I finally reiterated, full of confusion, "Avrille… I was a Death Eater. I was by proxy allied with the men who murdered your father in an attempt to capture you."

Avrille dropped her hand from my face but still kept her eyes locked with mine. "I am well aware of what a Death Eater is and what they did in the past," she said.

"But don't you _care_?" I asked, almost in desperation.

Finally Avrille seemed to grow angry. "Yes, _of course_ I care, Severus!" she said sharply. "I care because _you _care. The remorse and agony in your eyes right now say far more about you as a man than whatever stupid things you might have done years ago."

She grabbed both of my hands with hers and squeezed them tightly. Then she said in a softer tone, "I wouldn't care if you told me you were actually the Dark Lord himself. Nothing you could ever say could make me stop loving you." Avrille finally dropped her eyes from mine and looked down at our entwined fingers.

I felt my eyes burn, and for a heartbeat I honestly couldn't think why. I couldn't even remember the last time I had cried. I didn't spill any actual tears now, but that was more from years of practising sealing off my emotions than from not truly feeling her words. I was not worthy of a woman like her who would still declare her devotion to me so faithfully after I had revealed the deepest shames of my past.

Now that the initial painful step had been crossed, I felt it would be best to continue. It was if my past was a painful wound that needed to be lanced and flushed out before it could heal.

"The most important thing to me for you to know is that I realised my gross error in judgment before the Dark Lord fell. I did not simply talk my way out of punishment after the fact, like some others," I had to bite my tongue to keep myself from saying, "like Lucius."

"Why did you change your mind?" Avrille asked gently, moving closer to me on the sofa so that she was right against me. She rested her cheek on my shoulder, and I found it much easier to speak without the weight of her eyes on me.

"Because of a terrible mistake of my own. By passing on some information I overheard to the Dark Lord, I inadvertently set the course for the him to hunt down one of my closest friends, Lily Evans. That is, Lily Potter."

"Was she Harry Potter's mother?" Avrille asked, looking up at me slightly.

I gave an ironic smile. "Yes. Even though we had been in rival Houses here at school, Lily in Gryffindor and I, of course, in Slytherin, we shared many of the same interests and soon became close. Lily was gifted at Potions, and we were always in the same classes. I would even go so far as to say that I thought of her rather like a little sister, even though we were the same age. Very few people genuinely cared about me like Lily did.

"We hadn't seen each other since leaving Hogwarts, but we still wrote occasionally. When I realized my information had been interpreted by the Dark Lord to mean that his largest threat was Lily's infant son, I was shown first-hand the depths of depravity to which the Dark Lord was willing to descend in order to secure his position as the most powerful wizard in the world. It was enough to snap me back to my senses. I immediately contacted Dumbledore and told him everything I knew, hoping it would help keep Lily safe. Without hesitation, I became a double agent for him and the Order of the Phoenix, who were working to take the Dark Lord down. I was able to aid them for six months before the Dark Lord disappeared."

I paused and stared into the fire. I hadn't bothered to charm it, so it was dying a natural death. Only a few struggling flames still clung to the glowing logs, casting Avrille and me in a soft light.

"I don't know if it was even worth it in the end. Lily and her husband were still murdered and her son left parentless. I always wondered, what if? What if I had just worked a little harder to get more information out of the Death Eaters? What if I had been less of a coward and taken more of a public stance against the Dark Lord?"

"You would be dead, that's what," Avrille said matter-of-factly. "And if you call yourself a coward again, I'm leaving this room. I've never heard of a more brave thing in my life than what you did. You shouldn't confuse cowardice with common sense. I'm sure you were able to do much more good as a spy than if you had openly defected and gotten yourself murdered as well."

My heart swelled at her words. That was, after all, what I had been trying to tell myself over the years, but it helped to have it validated by the most important person in my life.

"Am I right to assume that the Death Eaters never found out about your switch in allegiance?" Avrille asked.

I shook my head. "No. Like you said, if they had, I wouldn't be alive right now."

"So by telling me this, you've basically put your life in my hands," Avrille said quietly, raising her head to look me in the eyes once more.

"It was already," I whispered and finally allowed myself the indulgence of her kiss. I ran my fingers down her silken throat as I kissed her deeply, able to feel the gentle throbbing of her pulse beneath them. I poured every last ounce of pain and doubt into that desperate kiss, emptying myself of it completely as I allowed Avrille's love to fill me instead.

Avrille wrapped her arms around my neck and pressed her lips against my ear. "I'm so glad I didn't know you back then," she whispered. "I don't think I could have breathed knowing you were doing something so dangerous."

"I know," I said softly. The truth was, if I had known Avrille at the time, I probably _wouldn't_ have risked my life like I had. Back then I had nothing to lose. As much as I had cared for Lily, I could never have joined Dumbledore if I had been in love with Avrille. If I had been caught, it would not have been me whom the Dark Lord tortured for my punishment.

It was growing late, and I still hadn't broached the subject I had originally wished to speak to Avrille about. As soon as I could bear to, I gently removed Avrille's arms from me so I could talk to her once more face to face.

"I didn't tell you all of this tonight to simply clear my own conscience. If I had believed it all possible to leave you in ignorance instead of burdening you with this information, then believe me I would have. However, I have a plan in mind which could not possibly succeed unless I knew I had your full trust. In order to do that, I had to first place all my trust in you, which I have."

Again, I knew that this was not one hundred per cent honest. To be totally truthful would be to divulge the details of the Death Wish curse to Avrille, but it was the grossest understatement to say the thought of that conversation was uncomfortable. I liked to think that there wasn't much I was afraid of, but telling Avrille how desperately I wanted to make love to her every second I saw her, and exactly why that wasn't a good idea, was certainly something that made me nervous. All thoughts of that subject shelved firmly in the deepest corner of my mind, I continued on.

"We've never really discussed the topic before, but I was wondering if you have ever actively tried to restore your magic usage."

Avrille frowned and shook her head. "No, I was always told by others it was best to just leave it and let things take their course. Everyone was convinced that if it was ever going to return, it would come back naturally."

"A point with which I disagree," I said and stood. Now that I was thinking on a logical line, I felt like I had to move. I started to pace in front of the sofa once more with my arms crossed, Avrille following my progress back and forth with her eyes.

"It is my belief that if your magic was ever going to return naturally, it would have done so long ago. However, I found it as strange as you that you should have a vision all of a sudden after so many years, and it made me wonder if it could be a sign that your magic was trying to break through. When it stopped manifesting, you weren't even of an age where you were able to consciously control it in the first place, correct?" I stopped in front of Avrille.

"Pretty much. I had done countless things unintentionally, of course, but my parents always stressed to me the need to control my powers since they appeared to be so much greater than other people's. Before I was even allowed to use my powers intentionally, I was already far better at suppressing them. The problem is that I can't remember very much from around when my father was killed, so it's hard for me to remember exactly what my powers were like at that time."

I nodded and thought silently for a moment, biting my thumb distractedly, then resumed my pacing. "How large of a time frame is it, would you say, of not being able to remember a thing? Just a few days? A week? A month?"

Avrille sat back against the sofa, her eyes squinted and focused on the shadowed ceiling as she tried to remember. I watched her intently, somehow knowing that the answer to her problem was directly correlated to her answer to this question.

Finally she replied, "I would say a good couple of weeks. I vaguely remember the week right before he was killed, which I suppose is normal since I didn't have anything specifically eventful that would make me remember it any more than someone else my age can remember when she was nine. On that particular day, all I can remember is looking out the window and actually seeing one of those men kill my father. My mother says she grabbed me right after and pulled me away with her through the Floo. I don't remember anything else until perhaps two weeks later when a teacher came to our house, and my mom tried to make me do some magic for her. I found that no matter how hard I tried I couldn't do anything."

I nodded in satisfaction and dropped back down onto the sofa beside her once more. "So, I think it is safe to assume that if you somehow stopped your own magic, perhaps as a by-product of trying to forget witnessing such a horrific event, then whatever you did to yourself occurred within those two weeks."

Avrille shrugged. "That sounds right, but I don't know how I could ever find out what happened if I can't remember it."

I smiled faintly. "But I can. I'm rather skilled at Legilimency, which is the art of entering another's thoughts. I believe that if you'll allow me to use Legilimency on you and actually see your memories, there might be a clue to be found there which you would not normally notice yourself.

"The mind is a many layered structure and fiercely focused on self-preservation. If an outside force threatens the mind, it will immediately contain the threat and secret it away to the deepest parts of the unconscious. By using Legilimency, I might be able to, over time, peel away the protective layers your mind has built around those painful memories and find an answer to your problem. I must warn you, though, it could take weeks or even months for me to get that far, and in the end, it might end up a fruitless endeavour."

"You would do that for me?" Avrille asked quietly.

I placed my hand on her cheek. "I would do anything for you, if you'd let me."

Avrille dropped her eyes back down to her lap, the dim firelight catching a shimmer beneath her lashes.

"To be able to do magic… I don't even know what that would be like. When can we start?" she asked. "Tonight?"

"I would want to wait a few days until you're better rested," I replied. "Do you think you will be able to sleep from now on? The Legilimency is going to take just as much concentration on your part as it will mine."

Avrille nodded in firm determination. "I'm still uneasy with the thought of having visions again, but I think I can sleep all right as long as I know I'll be doing _something_ soon."

"Good," I said and walked over to a cabinet. I retrieved the vial I had prepared earlier in the day and brought it over to Avrille.

"This is another infusion of what I gave you last night, though in a lower dosage. This should keep you asleep for eight hours, so if you take it soon, you'll be back on a normal sleep schedule. And also, I think it best if you slept in your own bed tonight."

Avrille looked at me shrewdly and asked, "Are you _sure_ you're not reading my mind right now?"

"I would never do that without your knowledge or consent," I said, handing her the vial.

"I know, I was just joking," she said as she held the vial up to the light to make sparkles glimmer through the liquid. "Can I come back here tomorrow, just to see you?" she asked, looking aside at me.

Forcing back the answer that what I really wanted was for her to move in with me here, I replied, "I need to take care of some business in London tomorrow. That will free me up for the remainder of the holiday so we can work regularly on your memory."

Avrille pocketed the vial then, with a large sigh and a languorous stretch, said, "I think I should go to bed now. I'll still really tired from missing so much sleep this week." I couldn't keep my heart from sinking a little as she said this, although I knew that sleep was the most important thing for her at the moment. However, that didn't stop me from wanting to take her in my arms and not let her go until sunrise.

Avrille stood up. She made to move towards the fireplace but then hesitated and turned back to me.

"Would it be all right if I came down here tomorrow while you're gone? I somehow feel safer here…"

I took a few paces so I was right beside her. "If you wish," I said, wrapping my arms around her wait. Avrille placed her hands on either side of my face, lacing her fingers through my hair, and pulled me to her lips. I almost wish she hadn't. Every time she kissed me made it so much harder to say goodbye, even if it was only for a day.


	25. Chapter Twenty Five: AVRILLE

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

_Avrille_

I forced myself out of bed at seven the next morning, even though the residual effects of Severus' potion could have let me drowse for another hour or four. Severus wanted me back on a normal sleep schedule for the Legilimency sessions, and there really was no point in getting into the habit of sleeping late when I would have to start getting up early again in a week when classes resumed. I was still not totally comfortable with the idea of having visions again, but at least this time I wasn't alone. If I had a strange dream and I was worried about it, I could tell Severus.

It being the weekend, breakfast wasn't for another two hours, so I laid around my parlour munching on chocolate biscuits and candy canes while throwing Caligula's mice for him. He was still angry at me for leaving him alone, but I told him it was going to be a regular occurrence from now on, so he better get used to the idea. After hearing this he slunk along the floor away from me to sulk under the armoire.

I ate breakfast with Lavinia, who kept shushing me when I talked too loudly since she had a massive hangover from all of the previous night's drinking. Severus wasn't at breakfast, so I assumed he had already gone to London. After eating I decided to take a short walk around the grounds for some fresh air. As I walked slowly along the lakeshore, thinking about Severus and wondering what he was doing right then, I noticed two small figures a couple hundred feet out on the ice. Knowing that the last thing the school needed at the moment were two drowned students to add to the mounting troubles, I carefully slid my way out to see who they were and what they were doing. Once I was three-quarters of the way there, I was able to tell that they were two first years, Luna Lovegood from Ravenclaw and Nan Cobble from Hufflepuff. They were both squatting on the ice and focused on something in front of them.

"Hello, Mistress Asphodel!" Nan called out as she saw me approach. She waved a mittened hand at me.

"I don't think you two should be out here," I began before being stunned into silence by the sight of what they were doing. In front of them was a roughly hewn out hole created by what looked like a combination of magic and two steel ice picks. Luna was sitting on a royal blue cushion, probably borrowed from her common room, and mashing apples to bits with a hammer. Nan was picking up pieces of apple then dropping them in the hole all the while making kissing noises.

"What exactly_are_ you two doing?" I asked slowly.

Nan turned her large brown eyes to me and said, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world, "We're feeding the grindylows!"

Luna nodded solemnly without looking up from her task and added, "They'll become very malnourished if they don't add some fruit to their diet…" and continued with her vigorous pounding.

"Come here widdle baby gwindywows!" Nan crooned lovingly at the hole, leaning over so that her chestnut curls were nearly touching the ice.

"It's not safe being out here alone. I think you two should come back inside now," I said firmly.

"Oh no, we're much safer out here," Luna replied, brushing back her long dirty-blonde hair with gloved fingers and leaving it coated in bits of crushed apple.

"Yes, I'm a Muggle-born so it _is_ actually safer out here," Nan added, sitting back on the ice on her scarf which she had folded up. "All of the attacks happened in the school. No one who's been petrified was feeding grindylows, so the odds are with us."

As I tried to wrap my mind around the girls' logic, Nan suddenly turned to me and said, "I've been thinking lately," _Uh oh_, I interjected silently, "and, you know _what, _Mistress Asphodel? I was thinking that there are two kinds of people in this world and you are _definitely _one of them!" Nan stared up at me with the sweetest smile on her face, her brown eyes almost completely round as she opened them wide in earnest goodwill.

"Um, thanks, Nan. I think…" I replied.

"No, really!" she insisted. "You are! Cause like, you know, someone like Professor Snape, he'd be the _other_ kind-"

"-Nan…" Luna interrupted in quiet warning. Luna's face took on the expression as though what Nan had said suddenly reminded her of something. She stopped pulverizing apples and abruptly stood up so she was facing me.

"Is Professor Snape nice to you?" she asked, scrutinizing my face with her orb-like blue eyes squinted, making them seem almost normal size.

"_Excuse_ me?" I asked, incredibly taken aback.

"Yes, is he?" Nan added and looked up as well, her face one of deepest concern.

"I suppose so…" I replied.

Luna continued to stare at me for an uncomfortable moment before remarking, "He told Nan and me that we're dotty. I really don't understand why." She paused then said, turning to Nan, "Perhaps we'd better go inside now."

Nan sighed. "Yes, we'd better." She scooped up the rest of Luna's apple mess and dumped it into the hole. "Eat up and become big and strong, little grindylows!" she yelled into the lake. With that she rose and shook out her scarf as Luna picked up her pillow, hammer, and ice picks.

"Bye, Mistress Asphodel!" Nan and Luna said together before sliding away back toward the shore, leaving me alone and feeling rather as though I had missed a few vital points in the conversation. Shaking my head, I took one last look down the icy hole, and I could have sworn I saw a small green hand snatch an apple core down into the dark oblivion.

That strange encounter was certainly the most interesting thing to happen to me for the rest of the morning. Without classes to attend or work to complete, I was beyond simple boredom. I moped around the library all afternoon, annoyed at myself for acting like a stereotypical female who was useless without her man there. I couldn't help it though; now whenever I wasn't around Severus, everything else seemed so utterly mundane.

Finally driven to the point where I was so bored I almost picked up one of Lockhart's books to flip through (he having his own shelf placed ostentatiously by the library entrance), I decided to go down to Severus' room to await his return from London. I had to go to my own room first to take the Floo down to his, so before I left I got down on my hands and knees to visit Caligula under the sitting room couch. I told him that I was very sorry, but Severus would not appreciate having a jealous cat purposefully throw up all over his nice, pristine furniture. Caligula grumbled and squeezed himself around so his bum was in my face. After sticking my tongue out at him, I rose and stepped into the green flames.

Severus had not returned yet, but he had left some candles lit for me. I walked lazily through the few rooms of his apartment, running my hands over the cracked leather spines of books and taking time to look more closely at some of the paintings. Shoved in the corner of one of the bookcases was a copy of each of the books Severus had published. I pulled one out at random and flipped through the pages. The binding was still stiff, and it didn't seem like it had ever even been opened. Severus' modesty regarding his genius always amazed me, especially in contrast to the way Lockhart flaunted _his_ ignorance.

Something unusual I noticed, though knowing Severus, I suppose, not unexpected, was that he had virtually no personal effects on display. No photographs adorned the top of his highly polished desk, his walls were bare of the degrees and awards which I knew he had been granted over the years. The atmosphere of the apartment was one of dignified orderliness. However, I did find one thing out of place with the outwardly appearance of the surroundings that nearly made me melt.

I had been lounging against Severus' desk, staring out of the window at my own reflection swimming in the absorbing blackness of the lake. I thought I saw something dart past the glass in front of me, and as I leaned forward quickly against the desk chair to try and see if it was a mermaid, I heard the dull thump of something hitting the floor. Kneeling down to investigate, I saw my movement had dislodged a book that had been left on the seat cushion. Holding it up in the candlelight revealed it to be a book of nineteenth-century love poems. I opened the book and saw it appeared to have been read often, the pages of certain poems dog-eared or marked with thin strips of black velvet. As I read through one of the bookmarked poems, my face grew hot. The poem wasn't specifically graphic or shocking, but the writer put forth such a powerful feeling of unrequited desire that it made me flush with the thought of Severus reading such things and thinking about me.

As I was reading a third poem in the book, I heard the lock in the outside door click. I quickly stashed the book back on the chair seat and turned toward the door just as Severus opened it. He was wrapped in a heavy traveling cloak which he promptly removed as he stepped over the threshold. He smiled brightly when he saw me.

"It's shaping up into another blizzard out there," he commented as he shook his cloak out. I ran toward him and kissed him long and hard on his chilled lips, making him drop his cloak in surprise at my assault. Thick clumps of snow matting his hair melted as I ran my fingers through it.

"You're freezing!" I said as I wrapped my arms around him under the cold, black suede of his frock coat.

"I noticed," he replied good-naturedly as he clasped me tighter to him. I pressed my face against his soft woollen shirt and deeply inhaled his wintry scent.

"Did you get everything that you needed to done?" I asked, looking back up again.

"Yes, thankfully," Severus replied with a sigh, then kissed the top of my head before bending over to retrieve his cloak. He hung it on a hook by the door then hung his coat next to it. He placed an arm around my waist and led me back into the parlour so he could stand in front of the fire. I sat on the couch as he crouched by the fireplace and warmed his hands.

"What did you have to do?" I asked curiously.

"I had to speak with my publisher who wants me to contribute to a monthly potions periodical he's thinking of starting," he replied over his shoulder. "Also, since it's almost the new year, I had to go to the Ministry and pay my taxes."

"Taxes?"

"Yes," he said as he joined me on the couch. "Since both of my parents are dead, I have inherited my childhood home. I don't live there but still have to give the Ministry something for it each year."

"Oh," I replied simply. I knew Severus didn't like to talk about his family, so I felt bad I had inadvertently brought up the subject. He had said before that he didn't have any family he kept in touch with, but I hadn't been sure if his parents were still alive or not until then. I wondered what sort of people they had been. But knowing Severus would unlikely want to talk about them, I decided to quickly change the subject.

"I was thinking, maybe I should talk to the Divination teacher here about my visions. I've never met her, but I think her name is Professor Trelawney? Maybe she has some experience in the matter…"

At this comment, Severus actually snorted.

"What?" I asked. I thought it had been a good idea.

Severus placed a hand over his mouth to try and cover his sardonic smile. "Ah, well, I don't like to speak badly about my work colleagues, but let's just say that even with no experience, you are already far more qualified to teach that subject than her."

"What do you mean?" I asked slowly, still confused by Severus who was trying his hardest to put a serious expression back on his face. He took a few moments to answer, as though he were trying to find tactful words.

"As far as I know, Professor Trelawney has only ever made one true prediction in her life, something I believe you were probably already doing by the time you were five years old."

"But, surely, if she wasn't qualified for the job, Professor Dumbledore…"

"-Professor Dumbledore only keeps her in the post for her own protection, a fact Professor Trelawney is unaware of. I'm sure she's a nice enough woman, but, believe me, there's absolutely nothing you can learn from her. Whereas I, on the other hand…" Severus trailed off and leaned in to kiss me.

By now his lips had warmed, and I let myself be washed away by their hungry power. I had the vague thought in the back of the mind that no Legilimency was going to be accomplished tonight, which I ended up being correct about. I don't know how much time actually passed. Since our first kiss a few nights before we had spent very little time simply enjoying each other physically. Of course I loved Severus for his mind, but his body drove me just as crazy. I ran my fingers across his chest and shoulders, exploring him through his softly woven shirt. However Severus, though he kissed like a demon, was otherwise an absolute gentleman, something which was actually a little annoying. He kept his hands only on the respectable areas of my back and face, making me wonder if I was a total slut for wanting to drag him into the bedroom and tear his clothes off.

Nevertheless the night was pure magic. After several kisses that made me sure I was going to actually swoon, Severus pulled me close against him and held me for the longest time. He didn't have to say a word. He made it perfectly clear through his embrace how lonely he had been for a very long time.

Later, without having to be actually told, I returned to my room to sleep. I lay in bed, Caligula finally gracing me with his presence and curled up at my feet, thinking about Severus and how fiercely I loved him. I obviously wanted to marry him, but I knew it would be at least a few months before conventional dating procedure allowed me to tell him without the possibility of scaring him off. If it was up to me, I would never return to my own rooms at all, but I knew that for some reason Severus was still uncomfortable with the thought of us spending the night together, even if only to sleep innocently. I know he had given his reason about wanting to avoid being found missing if someone were to go looking for me in the middle of the night, but I felt there was something else there as well. I didn't know if it was because he was British, or just his own personality, but I knew that Severus wanted to take things very slowly with me.

I rolled over onto my stomach and huffed impatiently into my pillow. I was rapidly approaching twenty-five, and I was still a virgin. I had dated here and there as a teenager, but with all of my magical problems and then attending two all-girl schools, there hadn't been much time to form a serious attraction to any one guy. I wasn't so unrealistic that I wanted to save myself for after marriage, but I had always known I would only make love to the man who I would truly love forever. I knew I had him now, but it seemed like it was going to be more waiting for me. I wondered what was going to happen to us once the school year was over… Maybe I could get a job tutoring and find a small place in London to live. The thought of returning home and leaving Severus behind was inconceivable. I really just didn't know how everything was going to resolve itself smoothly. And I hated waiting…

The next morning Lavinia banged on my door at eight. She had fully recovered from her post-Christmas hangover and was determined to spend all day with me milking each school-free moment for everything it was worth. She was so incredibly perky I thought I was going to die. It had taken me a long time to fall asleep the night before, simply because of thoughts of Severus and not, miraculously, because of any fear over visions, so I had been really counting on staying in my cozy bed all Sunday morning. Lavinia wasn't having any of it. She shoved me back into my bedroom to dress and talked loudly through the door about this amazing man she had met in the village the day before. She had tried to find me to tell me about it but hadn't been able to… and I had better not have gone back to sleep or else she was going to transfigure my bed into a swimming pool.

Finally dressed and semi-coherent, Lavinia dragged me down to breakfast. Severus was already there, drinking a wonderful-looking cup of coffee while reading The Sunday Prophet, and stared at us as we entered. Lavinia still had me firmly by the wrist and only let me go once we were settled at the table. I discreetly gave Severus a look of pure misery, and he had to hide his smile behind his newspaper. After slamming down in front of me the largest cup of coffee I had ever seen, Lavinia launched once more into the whispered details of her newly discovered crush. His name was Henry, and he was the only son of old Mr. Hereford, the owner of Hereford's Haberdashery (_Impeccable Clothing for the Discerning Wizard_)in Hogsmeade. He was just thirty-three and recovering from a very messy recent divorce where his cold-hearted trollop of a wife took all that he had, forcing him to return to work in his father's shop. He had no children and a Grecian nose that was to die for.

"So, you've talked with him?" I asked, more interested now that I could open my eyes fully.

"No, I had all of that from his mother," Lavinia whispered excitedly. "But she also told me he always takes his lunch at the Three Broomsticks every Sunday, so I thought maybe you could come with me later, and I could, you know, accidentally run into him." I nearly choked on my pancake trying not to laugh at her choice of words. If only she knew how good I was at finding love after running into someone.

After a further five minutes of incessant pleading, I agreed to go down to Hogsmeade with Lavinia for lunch later, but only if she paid. After breakfast I rose from the staff table, hoping to maybe catch Severus' eye to indicate that I wanted to come down and see him before I had to go to Hogsmeade. However, Lavinia grasped my arm firmly and declared that she needed my help to choose something to wear since she only had four hours to get ready.

Heedless to my insistence that she looked lovely just as she was, Lavinia dragged me up the seventeen flights of stairs to her rooms in the Astronomy Tower where she did indeed take almost three hours to finally decide on the perfect purple dress. The last hour was spent on her make-up and hair. As much as I cared for Lavinia, and was genuinely interested in her new love, all I wanted was to go be with _my _love. However, that was not to be. At least Lavinia insisted on taking one of the school carriages down to Hogsmeade because she couldn't bear to have her silk shoes ruined in the snow.

In actuality, lunch turned out to be quite interesting. Lavinia was, amazingly, too shy to go talk to Henry directly, so I agreed to do the old bit of, "Hello! Oh excuse me, I thought you were someone I knew," to Henry for her. Once I had "realized my mistake," I was able to introduce Lavinia to him as my dearest friend and the most brilliant teacher at Hogwarts. After that there wasn't much to do but sit back and watch with amusement what I'm sure Severus would have referred to as something like "the quaint intricacies of human mate-selection rituals."

Henry Hereford was indeed quite nice looking, though not really my type. He did have the aforementioned praised "Grecian nose," above which sat a pair friendly hazel eyes and a dishevelled mop of sandy hair. Fortunately for Lavinia, he seemed just as taken with her as she was with him. He laughed loudly at all of her jokes and leaned his face on his fist, staring at her in amazement, as she talked about anything that came to mind. We ate a leisurely lunch which, unfortunately for me, was extended into a leisurely tea and cakes at Henry's parents' house. I thought maybe once we left the Three Broomsticks Lavinia would prefer to go with Henry alone, but she gripped my hand with brutal strength at the suggestion and insisted in a panicked whisper that she would simply drop dead of nervousness if I "abandoned" her. So, unable to desert a friend in such dire need of a third wheel, I accompanied her and Henry on their little soirée.

While Lavinia and Henry ate cake and whispered flirtingly together, I talked a little with Mrs. Hereford, who was very kind. She mentioned she herself had gone to school with Lavinia's mother and couldn't be more happy that her son had taken a liking to her. It was nice to have a motherly figure to speak with for a little while, and it sure beat having to sit alone and watch Lavinia bat her lashes so much at Henry she looked like she had a piece of dust stuck in her eye.

_Finally_, when it was nearly sunset, Lavinia was able to tear herself away from her new beau and consented to return to the castle. I was incredibly glad when she informed me she could surely manage on her own from now on. She had already made plans to have dinner with Henry the following night once he closed up shop. We sat in the carriage, Lavinia grasping both of my hands in hers, almost in tears with gratitude for having such a wonderful friend like me. I had been happy to help her, but still relieved when we entered the castle and Lavinia took off like a shot upstairs to write to her mother.

I myself went straight into dinner for a light meal. Severus was not there, which was too bad because I wanted to speak with him to see if we could begin with the Legilimency sessions that night. Nevertheless, I decided to just go down to his rooms, assuming he would not mind if I popped in. And indeed he did not.

As I stepped out of the fireplace, I saw Severus turn to me, having been sitting at his desk with some paperwork.

"I was hoping I might get to see you before the end of the week," he said sarcastically.

I flung myself down on the couch headfirst and melodramatically screamed into a cushion.

"That bad, was she?" he asked as he walked over. I moved my feet and sat up so he would have some room next to me.

"She had me in Hogsmeade with her all day long so she could see this new man she had met. He was really nice, but it was ridiculous having to stay with Lavinia like she was a fourteen year old," I said. "He's around your age, so you might have gone to school with him. Does the name Henry Hereford ring a bell?"

Severus thought for a moment then replied hesitantly, "Yes…"

"Was he alright?" I asked, hoping that Henry hadn't been some kind of axe-wielding maniac in school.

"He was in Hufflepuff," Severus replied, as though that statement alone was all that needed to be said on the matter.

"Yeah… and?"

"Well, you know Hufflepuffs," Severus said with a derisive air and tried to distract me by kissing my ear.

"There's nothing wrong with Hufflepuffs," I stated firmly. I personally thought the Hufflepuff students were absolutely sweet. There was cute little Nan Cobble after all… Which reminded me of something.

"Did you tell Nan Cobble and Luna Lovegood they were dotty?" I asked suddenly.

"What?" Severus asked softly without removing his lips from my neck. I don't think he had actually listened to what I was saying, so I repeated myself.

"I don't know, probably," he said, surfacing with a shrug.

"That's not a very nice thing to say to first years," I reproved. "You could scar them for life or something."

Severus shrugged again. "Well, they are!"

"How would you like it if a teacher called _your_ daughters dotty?" I asked staring Severus in the eye, only really half-serious.

"Our daughters wouldn't be," Severus replied simply and rose from the couch to go back to his desk. I sat there, and it took a moment for what he said to sink in. I couldn't tell if he had said it on purpose or if it had been a slip of the tongue.

"Are you feeling up to trying some Legilimency tonight?" Severus asked as he filed the papers he had been working on into a drawer.

"Yes, that is a good idea, actually," I said, still thinking about his last comment, my heart pounding.

"I want to start extremely slowly," Severus said as he retrieved his wand from its case. "If you are uncomfortable with the sensation, and we press on anyway, it could result in a further suppression of your memories." He walked back over to me and Summoned over one of the armchairs so it was right in front of the couch.

"Why don't you lie down," Severus suggested, motioning for me to place my head near the end where the chair was. I followed his direction and rested my head on a small pillow that he Conjured for me. He sat in the arm chair and leaned over so his face was near mine. "Legilimency is dangerous magic. I must admit that, though it is certainly possible, I have never personally seen it used benignly. I am, however, confident it is the best way for me to help you. But I want you to tell me _immediately _if anything I do feels uncomfortable, and I will stop."

"Alright," I agreed with a nod.

Severus placed his left hand on my forehead and sat back slightly. "I want you to close your eyes, listen to my voice, and relax as much as possible," he instructed. That part I found easy since he certainly had the most relaxing voice I've ever heard in my life. I closed my eyes and willed all of the stress to leave my body. I focused on the gentle weight of Severus' hand on my forehead and tried to allow the warmth of his touch spread throughout my limbs.

"Now, to begin with, I want you to try and focus your mind on a very recent memory, preferably something having to do with me so that you'll be comfortable with me seeing it." I nodded beneath his hand and directed my thoughts to the recent night where we had gone into the Shrieking Shack together.

"Do you have a memory?" Severus asked quietly. I nodded again. "Good. Let it flow through you. Without straining yourself, try to recall every detail as best as you can. Let me know when you are ready."

Still trying to relax myself, I let my mind wander over that night. I remembered how cold it had been and how nervous I was being all alone with Severus away from the village.

"I'm ready," I said.

"Very well. _Legilimens_," he whispered and instantly I felt as though Severus had entered my head through his hand which physically connected us. Before my closed eyes, I could actually see the two of us sitting on Severus' cloak in front of the fire in the Shack. It was like viewing the scene through a Muggle television where I could distinguish every detail from the room, even things I had forgotten about like how shafts of starlight coming through the boarded windows had made pale stripes across the floor.

I heard my remembered-self remark, "Well there's not much to see," then the past Severus reply mysteriously, "Not much now anyway." I watched his posture tense after he said this, now knowing what he had been thinking at the time. In my mind I could feel the real Severus almost bristle uncomfortably, also remembering the thoughts that had been running through his mind just then. Then, before I could hear any more of the past conversation, Severus released my memory from his hold, and we were back in his room once more. I opened my eyes.

"That is the strangest thing I've ever felt…" I remarked. "Not uncomfortable," I added hastily, "just strange."

Severus smiled. "I know. It will take some getting used to. Do you want to continue?" he asked.

"Yes, of course."

"Why don't you try to remember a little later that same night," Severus said. Once he saw I was ready again, he repeated the incantation of, "_Legilimens."_

We were at the bottom of the hill outside of the Shrieking Shack. My hands were freezing cold because they were clutching the last remains of two snowballs. Severus was holding my hands in his and the dim moonlight illuminated our faces. I could actually see the conflicting emotions in my eyes before I closed them and slowly leaned into Severus, kissing him lightly then pulling away. Before I could see him kiss me in return, the real Severus pulled us back again.

"Very good," he commented. "Your concentration is excellent."

"I was so scared…" I murmured, my eyes open but still seeing the ghosts of the two of us and Severus' confused expression after I had kissed him. I had really thought then I had just ruined the friendship between us.

"I know…" Severus replied quietly. "I think we should stop now."

"Why?" I asked, bringing myself back to the present.

"I only wanted to give you a taste of what it feels like. I think you should sleep on it and see how you are tomorrow. If you still feel completely comfortable, we can go deeper the following day."

I sighed. "I'm sure you know what's best." I sat up quickly, which was a mistake. I was instantly hit with a wave of dizziness and had to drop my head back down onto the pillow.

"Don't rush yourself," Severus directed, moving his hand to my shoulder to keep my lying down. "It might feel like I did nothing, but your mind is disagreeing with you. It's against nature to have another enter your thoughts, and it will take time until you are able to transition back into the present seamlessly." Bidding me to remain prone on the couch, Severus stood and retrieved a shot glass from a sideboard that contained a few measures of frothy, mint-green liquid.

"For your stomach," Severus said, holding it out. I took the glass from him, and he helped me to sit up slowly. I downed the potion with a little difficulty, it was like swallowing toothpaste foam, but as soon as I had, the nausea vanished. Severus Conjured a glass of water for me to wash away the taste. I laid back down.

"You're right," I said, passing a hand over my eyes. "It is harder than it seems at first." Severus took my other hand in both of his and sat quietly, watching me.

"Have you ever had this done to you?" I asked curiously.

Severus' eyes narrowed for a moment before he replied, "Not exactly. That is, I've never agreed to Legilimency willingly and when it was forced, I had Occlumency to protect myself."

"It was forced on you?"

Severus smiled grimly. "Yes. The Dark Lord used it indiscriminately to discern who was lying to him. Fortunately for myself, I was more skilled in Occlumency than he believed me to be."

Neither one of us said anything more about the subject. Every time Severus mentioned something about his past, I realized more and more how dangerous it had been. I was almost sick at the thought of You-Know-You trying to enter Severus' mind and he only having his own concentration to protect himself. That would be the mental equivalent of rape. I wondered if it was upsetting Severus having to perform Legilimency on me, even though I was a willing participant.

Without even needing Severus to recommend it, I soon returned to my own rooms to collapse on my bed. I ended up falling asleep without even changing into my pyjamas. I slept completely soundly, comforted by the residual feeling of Severus' calm power within my mind. I knew it might be bothering Severus to use Legilimency on me, but I also knew that he had probably never performed it on anyone else. It made me so happy that he was sharing something so personal with me.


	26. Chapter Twenty Six: SEVERUS

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

_Severus_

Avrille's mental powers were astounding. When Legilimency was performed on a "normal" person, the one controlling the spell would usually be flooded with bits and pieces of various scenes. It would then be the viewer's job to connect the fragmented information and create a more clear picture. However, with Avrille, I was given fully fleshed out memories, intricate in detail and packed with emotion.

Our second session together went as smoothly as the first, Avrille reliving for me a few of our earliest encounters with each other. My God, I had really been an absolute beast to her back then. I hoped at least now Avrille was able to understand why I had acted the way that I did.

New Year's Eve ended up being a break night for us. I did not want to rush Avrille, so I was keeping at least every other night free from the sessions so her mind could rest. That night we simply sat together in front of the fire, Avrille telling me stories of what she used to do with her parents during holidays before her father was killed. It seemed unnecessarily cruel that Fate had taken away Avrille's father, who had been so loving to both her and her mother, and had let mine live for as long as he did. As she happily reminisced with her head on my shoulder, I closed my eyes and inhaled the clean fragrance of her hair. At midnight we had kissed, the first time I had ever been able to experience that sweet tradition.

The following evening, which was the night before the students were returning to the school from holiday, we continued with the Legilimency. This was also where we hit our first snag. I was once more sitting beside Avrille, who was laying on the sofa. This time, instead of asking her to recall a particular memory, I asked that she simply let her mind wander. Probably because I was right there, most of these random thoughts still involved me. However, one memory quickly surfaced which contained the view of Lucius Malfoy's face an inch away from Avrille's. The second Avrille became conscious of this memory, she instinctively slammed shut her mind, and I was unceremoniously thrown out of it.

"I'm sorry…" Avrille murmured, her hands over her eyes.

"It's all right," I said simply, trying to keep an edge of jealousy out of my voice. I knew Lucius had tried something that night he asked Avrille down to the Hog's Head, but it was quite another thing to actually _see_ him doing it. I tried to focus my thoughts instead on the amazing feat Avrille had just unknowingly accomplished; without ever being instructed in Occlumency, she had thrown off my Legilimency spell without any seeming effort.

After giving Avrille a moment to herself, I said coolly, "I understand if you don't want to talk about what happened, but it will hinder our progress if you consciously block the memory from me."

Avrille removed her hands from her eyes, and I saw that they were burning with an angry fire. "No, I _need_ to talk about it. I don't want you to think that anything happened… that I _wanted _anything to happen!"

"I know," I said, softening my voice and placing a hand on her shoulder to comfort her. In certain ways, Avrille was so much more emotionally vulnerable than me, and I had to constantly remind myself how hard parts of the Legilimency were going to be on her. I helped Avrille to rise up slowly, then sat next to her. After furiously wiping away a tear that had squeezed its way out, Avrille recounted matter-of-factly everything that happened from the moment she had left the castle that night in Lucius' carriage to when she stormed into me outside of the tavern. I drew a sharp intake of breath when she stated he had used the Imperius curse on her, and it was only my fierce pride in her ability to throw off that spell as well that distracted me from thoughts of slitting Lucius' throat.

"Has he spoken to you or bothered you at all since that night?" I demanded once Avrille had finished her recollection.

"No, I haven't seen him once."

I relaxed a little. "What we need to do here is discover what positive things can be gleaned from this memory, even though it's upsetting," I said, as much for myself as for her. "For instance, we can hope Lucius will keep his hands to himself now, since you know about his filthy little secret."

Avrille thought for a moment. "Also," she added, "I was able to push him away with magic. I think that's the first magic I can say I've truly done in a long time!"

"Good!" I said, to encourage her. "This is what you need to do to keep hurtful memories from holding you in their power. Do you want to resume?"

"Definitely," Avrille replied firmly. She lay back down. This time the memory of Lucius surfaced right away, and Avrille allowed me to see the entire scene. Now knowing for myself what was going to happen, I was able to view it a bit more dispassionately and concentrate on watching the moment when Avrille loosed her magic at Lucius. I had to admit I didn't blame Lucius for his petrified expression as she descended on him in fury. Avrille, flushed with her own righteous power, was terrifying to behold.

Unfortunately for the both of us, the sessions had to be put on hold for a few days. That weekend I was stuck in my office signing in the students who had returned to the castle from home. On Monday both Avrille and I were too busy trying to get back into the normal school routine to meet. At least now that it was the second term, and Avrille was obviously comfortable enough to speak to me if she had any questions, she did not have to continue with her written evaluations for me. That saved both of us a little bit of time, though I did miss reading her insights.

Avrille's first observation with me for the new term was more than a little strange. It was the first time for us to be in class together since we had become lovers. I was still not completely resolved with the question of how professionally ethical it was for me to be supervising her, but I knew we really had no other option but to continue in public as though nothing had changed.

January shaped up to be even more frigid than December had been. Though I did cast Warming Charms on the dungeon classrooms, they were often so cold that both Avrille and the students kept on their winter cloaks while working. That month there were no attacks, and the mood around the school started to lighten somewhat. Avrille seemed to be slightly more cheerful and optimistic and began compiling packets of make-up Potions and Herbology work for Colin Creevy and Justin Finch-Fletchley.

By the second week of February, Avrille and I were still steadily progressing with her Legilimency. I greatly looked forward to these sessions, because through her mind I was being slowly introduced to her family and home. We met in my rooms every evening when I didn't have detentions or Avrille Herbology work. When we weren't practising Legilimency, we simply sat together, and Avrille explained to me the stories behind some of the stranger memories she had, many of which, unfortunately, were examples of the bullying she had to endure at the Salem Witches' Institute.

On the morning of February the fifteenth, I came as close as I had ever been to using the Killing Curse on a fellow human being. Lockhart had decided to force, to use his words, a "fashionably late" Valentine's Day on the rest of the school. I'm not sure how, owing to his deficiency in the practical magic department, but he had the Great Hall decorated overnight in various nauseating shades of pink and red and even went so far as to make heart-shaped confetti fall from the ceiling. Of course, being the simple-minded twit that he was, Lockhart had not managed to charm the confetti to keep it off of the breakfast food. After having to Vanish three consecutive cups of confetti-laced coffee, I resigned myself to starve until lunch when, hopefully, Filch would have the whole disgusting mess cleaned up.

Since on Mondays I had the first two classes free, I spent first period in my office, shaking bits of heart-shaped paper out of my hair and robes. I was also determined that the first "cupid" to enter my classroom would find his harp suddenly on fire. I sat at my desk, wondering if Avrille was expecting me to do something for Valentine's Day. Though I had prepared something nevertheless, I personally didn't see the point of the holiday. I always tried to show Avrille how much I loved her every day, so why should only one of those days be officially recognised?

A few minutes after the second period bell rang, as I was filing away some last term mark sheets that had been hiding in the back of a desk drawer, I heard a rapid knock on the door.

"Come in," I called, and turned away from the filing cabinet to see who it was. Avrille burst through the door and slammed it shut behind her, her back pressed against the wood as though to further blockade the entrance.

"Avrille, what…?" I began, but Avrille cut me off with a furtive wave of her hand.

"Shush!" she whispered in a panicky squeak. She then spun around to press her ear against the door as though listening for something in the distance. After a full minute, she murmured, "I think I lost him…"

"Lost who?" I asked in a exaggeratedly hushed voice. Avrille turned around again but this time sagged exhaustedly against the door.

"Another one of Lockhart's ridiculous cupids, that's who. I've already had _three_ interrupt my Herbology observation with valentines from students. Professor Sprout knew it wasn't my fault, but I still felt terrible. I saw another one heading toward me as I re-entered the castle, so I ran for it."

I started to laugh, but the stormy look Avrille threw in my direction silenced me instantly.

"And as if that wasn't enough, look what I found in my mailbox this morning," she said, walking over to my desk and upending her bag over it. Out spilled dozens of valentines, sliding over each other and onto the floor. I walked over to stand beside her.

"I'm not sure if I'm supposed to be jealous or not," I commented honestly.

"I mean, it's very sweet and all but rather inappropriate, don't you think?" Avrille asked as she furiously shovelled the valentines back into her bag.

"Slightly," I agreed, though thinking to myself it wasn't any more inappropriate than her having an affair with her supervisor. However, seeing the mood Avrille was in, I knew it was be a grave mistake to point that out.

"Bloody Lockhart had to go and _thank_ the students who sent _him_ valentines already! What an egotistical, narcissistic _prick!_ I've always _hated_ goddamned Valentine's Day!" Avrille ranted as she bent over to reclaim the fallen valentines. I raised my eyebrows at her. I had never heard Avrille use such colourful language before. She must have been truly furious.

"I suppose you won't be wanting this then," I said as I Conjured the present I had prepared for her: a rather special single long-stemmed red rose.

"What?" Avrille's head shot up from the floor.

"I'll just dispose of it then, shall I?" I said and made as though to reach into my robes for my wand.

"No!" Avrille exclaimed, jumping up and grabbing my wrist. With her other hand, she gently took the rose from me. She released me from her hold then inhaled the rose's scent as she cupped it between her palms.

"It's beautiful," she breathed quietly.

"I've charmed it so that it will stay in bloom for over a year, as long as you keep it in water," I explained. Avrille looked up at me, her eyes shining.

"Can you renew the charm then so it will last even longer?" she asked.

I couldn't help but smile, understanding from her words that she hoped we would still be together when that time came. "Of course," I replied, taking her in my arms gently as to not crush the rose, "But I hope that by then you'll be able to do that yourself."

After holding each other for a few minutes, Avrille sat beside me at my desk while I marked some homework. Her curiosity getting the better of her, she systematically opened and read the students' valentines one by one. I was slightly interested to know what they said as well, and if any students had been brave enough to sign their names, but I didn't ask since I knew Avrille would want to guard the students' privacy. A few times Avrille laughed out loud, shaking her head in disbelief, but then would quickly stash the valentine back into her bag without any explanation.

Once she was done reading every one, she tipped back her chair and asked sarcastically, "So, did _you_ receive any valentines this morning?"

"Not this year," I replied distractedly as I transcribed the marks into my ledger.

"You mean you have in the past?" Avrille exclaimed incredulously, dropping her chair forward in her surprise.

"What? Is that _so _hard to believe?" I asked jokingly, looking up at her.

"No, I mean, it's just that I figured the students would be too scared of you to, you know, think about you in that way."

I sighed. "As much as I wish that were true, I have in the past received a few valentines, anonymously of course. I always promptly threw them into the fire."

"Ooh… harsh." Avrille whistled, crossing her arms and legs. "You were _never_ curious enough to read them?"

"No," I replied. "Like you, I found it to be inappropriate."

Just then the end of period bell rang, and I had to leave to teach the first year Gryffindors and Slytherins. Avrille was still terrified of the cupids, so I permitted her to remain in my office until lunch. As it happened, one cupid did try to enter my classroom that period. After seeing the withering look on my face as he started to waddle between the desks, however, the dwarf promptly backed out of the room. No cupid interrupted my classes after that.

That night Avrille and I met for Legilimency. She brought down my rose in a lovely crystal vase, saying that she wanted to keep it in my rooms since Caligula had already tried to eat it.

"You know, you can bring him down here sometimes, if you want," I offered, watching Avrille as she knelt beside the coffee table, fiddling with the rose to make it stand just right in the vase.

Avrille shook her head. "No, this is good for him. He's always been too spoiled." Finally happy with the way the rose looked, she moved to lay on the couch to prepare herself.

For the past of couple of weeks, I had been asking Avrille to show me only memories from between her eighth and twelfth birthdays. I was trying my hardest to find clues to her magical blockage with her being conscious but was quickly coming to the realisation that it might not be possible. In a last attempt to forego the dangerous task of performing Legilimency on an unconscious mind, I asked Avrille once more to try and remember as close to her father's death as she could.

As I entered her mind, I was confronted with a now very familiar scene; I had already viewed this memory numerous times, but that did not lessen the horror of it.

A nine-year-old Avrille stood at her upstairs bedroom window, her eyes open wide with terror. In the yard outside, Armand Asphodel could be seen battling two large men, his shoulder-length auburn hair flying as he shot hex after hex at his attackers. Two other men lay on the grass, bleeding and unconscious.

"_Stupefy!"_ Asphodel yelled, sending the larger of the two men, who I recognised bore a slight similarity to my old school "friend" Carrington, flying unconscious into the koi pond. From somewhere below Avrille on the ground floor, her mother's voice could be heard screaming Avrille's name in panicked desperation. Avrille seemed unable to hear her as she focused her attention on the fight below her.

Then without warning, in a flash of green light, the last attacker shot the _Avada Kedavra_ curse straight at Asphodel's chest. As he fell it seemed to both the young Avrille and to me that his eyes focused on the first storey window where his daughter stood frozen in horror. As his body hit the ground, the memory turned black. A second later, it reformed into another memory I had also already viewed several times.

Young Avrille stood beside her mother, Dora, a witch no older then than I was now. Both were attired in black dresses, her mother also wearing a black hat with an attached black lace veil. In front of them, a lustrous mahogany casket was being slowly levitated into the ground by a guard of young, black-robed wizards. Avrille explained to me before that these men had been her father's co-workers from his job as an executive chef at a high-class restaurant. With one of her black gloved hands, Mrs Asphodel clutched the hand of her daughter, while the other held a pure white handkerchief to her mouth as she shook with sobs. Avrille stood perfectly still and emotionless next to her mother, viewing the coffin with no expression on her face. Her small brown eyes seemed like two empty voids watching the remains of her father sink into the ground, not focused on what was in front of her. A tall, handsome man with short, greying auburn hair, Avrille's father's brother, stood to begin his eulogy.

Through a solid grey mist, the memory transitioned to one I had not yet seen. It appeared to be a few weeks later. Avrille was buried in bed with several down coverlets pulled up almost completely over her head. A single candle on the nightstand illuminated her room. Behind Avrille's huddled form, her mother could be seen standing in the open doorway with her pale hands set determinedly on her hips. She was addressing a white-robed man with the emblem of a balanced scale superimposed over a red maple leaf over his heart.

"No, I will not hear of it. She is not well enough," Mrs Asphodel stated firmly to the man.

"But without her testimony, we cannot be sure of a conviction," the prosecutor argued, jabbing with an ink-stained finger a bundle of parchment he was holding. "She was the only one who actually saw the accused kill your husband."

Mrs Asphodel moved her hands from her hips to the doorframe, further sealing it off from the prosecutor, and shook her head. "You'll just have to rely on the other evidence: the _Prior Incantato _spell from that monster's wand and the testimony of those other _men_ you granted plea bargains. I shouldn't have even brought Avrille to the funeral. I forbid her to be exposed to something as upsetting as a trial. Armand would not have wanted that." Without waiting for another argument, Mrs Asphodel pushed herself past the prosecutor, slamming Avrille's door behind them. Avrille looked slightly over the edge of her covers and, after seeing her mother had gone, pulled the blankets up once more so she was completely hidden. Only then could muffled sobs be heard.

I released Avrille from the Legilimency spell. I sat back, both frustrated and saddened by what I had seen. No matter how hard Avrille tried to remember, we simply could not view the time between her father's murder and his funeral, which her mother had postponed for several weeks due to Avrille's poor health. The scene I had just viewed with the barrister was interesting, but revealed no new information.

From the couch Avrille looked up at me and smiled.

"I don't know how you can smile after reliving that," I said softly.

Avrille sat up quickly, now able to recover from the Legilimency almost instantly without any physical effects.

"I can smile because I'm here with you. I've had those memories more than half of my life. Unfortunately, I've grown used to them." She took my hands in hers as she rested her elbows on her knees. Now that she was closer, I could see that though she _was_ smiling, there was still a sadness behind her eyes.

"I think we've completely exhausted this method," I said, shaking my head. "I'm hesitant to do this, but I think we should try Passive Legilimency. I will place you under a very mild sleeping spell that will nevertheless render you unable to control your own thoughts, therefore making you a passive subject. Without your conscious mind directing your memory, it should be possible for me to delve even deeper. However, you must understand this could be very dangerous. I'm confident in my ability to enter your unconscious mind without damaging it, but you still should be aware of the risks…"

"Severus," she interrupted me gently. I still got chills every time she said my name. "You know that I trust you. I want you to do whatever you think is best."

I considered her, trying to think of another way. "I do think this is your best chance," I finally said.

"Then I want to do it," she replied without hesitation.

"All right, but I want to wait until the weekend. That will give your mind several days to rest, and I can work all day uninterrupted if need be." That said, I pulled Avrille onto my lap, tossing my wand onto the sofa so I could hold her face in my hands. I sat there for a while, looking deep into Avrille's eyes and still reckoning with how she had been able to grow up into such a strong, stable woman after a childhood like hers.

"I love you," I finally whispered then gently kissed her, savouring the soft crush of her lips as they pressed against mine.

Fortunately, the next morning all of the previous day's disgusting decorations were absent from the Great Hall. Without needing to actually discuss the matter out loud, my fellow professors and I vowed to never speak of that day again.

Friday night, Avrille came down to my rooms after dinner, which I had skipped in order to prepare myself in complete silence for what I was about to do. Even though I reminded myself over and over again that practising Passive Legilimency on Avrille was more or less the same process as what I had already been doing with her, I was still feeling nervous. Nerves were not going to make things any easier. The problem lay in the uncomfortable fact that I had never _actually _done this before.

I had, of course, read about it extensively as well as observed it done on other people. But of course, those observations had usually involved watching other Death Eaters implant false memories into unconscious victims, the only use of Passive Legilimency the Death Eaters considered worthwhile. The books I had read on the subject were interesting, though vague as to what one was supposed to do once inside the unconscious mind. Because each and every mind is different, and no two practitioners of Legilimency operated the same way, it was nearly impossible to give definitive instructions.

Avrille sat beside me as I tried to explain to her what I was going to do. She was wearing loose, comfortable clothing as I had instructed since I wasn't sure how long the process would take.

I said slowly and deliberately, "First, I will put you to sleep using a charm that will prevent you from dreaming and cluttering up your thoughts with random images. After you are unconscious, I will enter your mind. Because we have been doing so much Legilimency over the past six weeks, not only am I already very used to operating inside of your mind, but I'm also familiar with the way your conscious memories are organised. I know where certain memories should be and also where the holes are. Once I have peeled away all of the layers, if there is anything for me to discover, I should find it quickly. This should lessen the risk of what I'm doing."

"Peel away the layers? You make me sound like an onion," Avrille said with a laugh.

I nodded. "That is a good metaphor. Your mind _is_ going to be rather like an onion… The outer layers, which are your conscious thoughts, should flake away easily. Inside of those are the thicker levels of your unconscious which are what I'm going to be trying to access. This is the dangerous part for it will be like trying to peel an onion without tearing a single membrane. Of course, in the centre, is the realm of the Forgotten, which are memories that could never under any circumstance be retrieved; for instance, memories of when you were an infant and did not yet have a mental sense of 'self.' Many people hypothesise that this is also where the soul of a person lies. Only the Darkest magic could ever affect the Forgotten mind and to do so would destroy the person utterly. The Kiss of a Dementor, for instance, totally obliterates the Forgotten mind, hollowing out the victim into a selfless shell."

Avrille nodded silently, her eyes unfocused on the carpet in front of her as she listened. She was running her fingertips over the back of my hand, an absentminded gesture that was nevertheless making it a little harder for me to keep my train of thought.

"If I am able to find the right memory, something to explain how and why you blocked out your magic, I will then be able to extract it. Once out of your mind, we will then be able to view it even more completely than if you were remembering it consciously. But, assuming everything goes as I hope, I'll touch more on that later. Are you ready?"

"Yes," Avrille answered, heaving a huge sigh. "Are you?" she asked.

"I had better be… Why don't you lie down so I can place the sleeping charm on you."

Avrille did as I asked after kissing me quickly, arranging herself into the most comfortable position she could with what room she had on the sofa.

"I'll see you later, then," she said lightly. She honestly did not appear to be scared about what I was about to do. I wished I could say the same for myself. I took a deep, cleansing breath, hoping I would live up to her faith in me.

"I'm going to do the charm now," I said. Avrille closed her eyes and nodded, her hands clasped over her stomach.

Raising my wand, I waved it once over her body and murmured, "_Somniculosa._" Immediately, Avrille's body relaxed, her head falling more slack against the pillow and her breathing slowing to a gentle rhythm. Forcing down one more gulp of air to clear my own head, I pointed my wand straight at her forehead, closed my own eyes, and said, "_Legilimens."_

At first it was like diving into a river on a moonless night. Everything in Avrille's mind was black since she was not actively thinking or dreaming. I had expected this and was prepared for it. Immediately I relaxed and mentally pictured how we were both positioned in my parlour. I thought of what clothes I was wearing at the moment, and how I would have looked to her. As soon as I had this perfectly imagined, I could see myself, sitting in the arm chair, explaining to Avrille what I was about to do. Good. I had managed to prime her memory and trick it into thinking she was recalling this recent event when, in fact, I was recreating it for her. Once I had this memory, it was like grabbing the frayed ends of an unravelling rope, and with painstaking carefulness, I began to pull myself through the sea of memories that suddenly opened up in front of me.

Because almost all of Avrille's memories from Hogwarts either directly involved me or were of events that I had also experienced on my own, I was able to delicately shove those aside with almost no effort. As I moved onwards, or backwards depending on your point of reference, I came to Avrille's memories of the late spring before she travelled to Hogwarts. A cool breeze blew several straggling tree blossoms from their swaying green branches and in through the window of the Asphodel home. Avrille was standing in the kitchen next to her mother and ripping open a long, official looking envelope. Mrs Asphodel looked older than I was used to seeing her, with several streaks of grey in her chocolaty hair that nevertheless perfectly accented her dignified beauty. After pulling out the thick packet of parchment, Avrille's eyes raced over the first few lines.

"I GOT IT!" she screamed. "I WAS ACCEPTED AT HOGWARTS!" Avrille began jumping up and down and squealing with glee. Her mother smiled, but looked apprehensive.

"I just wish it wasn't so far away…" Mrs Asphodel muttered behind a hand half covering her mouth and her eyes slightly wet.

"Mom, it doesn't _matter_ how far away it is! Do you have _any_ idea how lucky I am? I am going to be the apprentice of _Professor Severus Snape! _The most _brilliant _potion-brewer in the entire world!" Avrille spun around, then threw the acceptance letter into the air. I smiled to myself, if it can be called smiling when one isn't exactly connected with one's own body at the moment, flattered by Avrille's adoration of me even then, though knowing I was nowhere near as brilliant as she exclaimed.

I released this memory and let it flow away. I pushed forward, passing by all the memories of Avrille at the Boston Witches' Academy. I knew the memories I was searching for would have taken place in Avrille's own home. Another flash of the Asphodel kitchen caught my attention. Reaching forward, I delicately pulled it closer to me. Because this was before Avrille entered the Academy, I placed her to be around eighteen years old. Her hair was shorter, cut in a flattering pageboy that swung jauntily around her face as she bent over and reached into a large cardboard box. An anxious mewling could be heard from inside, which stopped instantly as Avrille pulled her hands out. They were cupping a tiny, tan Siamese kitten. Even though he was about one-twentieth the size I was used to, I knew instantly that it was Caligula. I had never seen another cat in my life with such a signature glare of ownership in his crossed blue eyes as he looked up pathetically at Avrille.

"Oh, Mom! He's just perfect!" Avrille gushed at her mother, who was smiling and holding a cardboard lid with holes cut out of it.

"Do you know what you'll name him?" she asked.

"I know _just_ the thing!" Avrille exclaimed, cuddling the soon-to-be christened Caligula to her heart and tickling his belly. With another smile, I let this memory free. If I was only as far back as when Avrille was just entering graduate school, I still had a long way to go.

Though my instinct was to plunge blindly ahead through the next few years, I forced myself to search with restraint. I was already starting to feel a slight fatigue and the smallest lapse in concentration. If I wanted to access the deepest guarded memories of Avrille's unconscious, I would have to pace myself.

Still pulling myself forward through the river of memory with the thin rope of thought, I tried to relax and let Avrille's memories of the Salem Witches' Institute drift lazily by. Even though it had only been a few years since the event, already at sixteen Avrille would have completely blocked out the time surrounding her father's murder. Now that I was coming closer, as I looked ahead, I could see a spot the older memories avoided. It was like a large boulder dropped into a stream. However, whereas a real stream would have been unable to flow quickly by the blockage and thus overflow onto the banks, Avrille's memories trickled by as rapidly as anything. The few moments here and there that I had already witnessed of Avrille during that terrible time after her father's murder created gates where her older memories of childhood could seamlessly meld with her later recollections of preadolescence. None of the memories seemed particularly bothered by the enormous impenetrable area in the middle, which fit since, when conscious, Avrille had not ever tried to force herself to remember that time until recently.

By now I was almost through Avrille's teenage years. I saw events that were quite private and I knew Avrille would never have told me about, such as her first kiss with a neighbourhood boy when she was fourteen. None of these things bothered me, since seeing Avrille as a child really made her almost like a different person. Though it was not quite at the time period I was searching for, I stopped at one particular memory I wanted to review.

Avrille and her mother were standing outside a dusty shop window which escaped the notice of numerous Muggles hurrying by. Since I was a wizard, I could easily understand the sign above the door which simply read, "Patterson's Wands." Though technically wearing Muggle clothes, Avrille was dressed much more fancily than the Muggle children who ran by her in ripped blue denim and grubby cotton shirts. Her mother had outfitted her in a cream-coloured silk pinafore, startlingly white tights and shining patent leather shoes. Her waist-length russet hair was gathered with a cream bow into a tail of shining curls. She looked like a beautiful Victorian porcelain doll. Mrs Asphodel, likewise, was dressed impeccably in a very flatteringly tailored jacket, knee-length skirt, and pillbox hat of midnight blue. The passing Muggle women openly stared at her as though she were royalty who had somehow stumbled into the wrong part of town.

Taking Avrille by the hand, Mrs Asphodel opened the door, setting a small bell tinkling, and led her daughter inside. I let a few minutes of their waiting in the gloomy foyer to slide effortless by until they were face to face with the wand-maker.

"I don't see the point. It's not like I'm ever going to use it…" Avrille grumbled moodily as she pulled absentmindedly at one of her curls.

"Yes, you will! We just have to be patient until it returns!" her mother whispered determinedly before turning back to the wand-maker and explaining what they were looking for. As her mother and the wand-maker conversed, Avrille kicked at the counter, scuffing her perfect shoes. I could tell by the expression on her face that she desperately wanted a wand but was terrified the wand-maker was going to turn her away. Since I had already viewed this memory before with Avrille, I knew eventually she had been chosen by a wand without any problems, a lovely supple twelve and a half inch rosewood with a unicorn hair core. The wand-maker gushed it was the most beautiful wand he had ever carved and was completely unaware that Avrille was quite different from any other young witch.

Not observing anything new from this memory, I pulled slowly back from it and continued my slow but steady pace toward the great charcoal grey block which stood like a deep shadow as colourful memories slid lithely by it. Now that I was so close, I kept my attention fixed solidly on what was ahead, letting other superfluous memories pass unexamined. As I gently made my way nearer and nearer, I focused on surrounding my presence with an air of sheer innocuousness. Soon I was directly at the edge of the wall of Avrille's suppressed memories. It was like the moment when I had first began the Legilimency all over again, where the blackness of what was in front of me completely obliterated the light of the other memories which passed by unseen. Still exuding an aura of innocent inquisitiveness, I gently brushed my mind against the wall. The memories bristled defensively for a moment, but then, recognising my magic, they relaxed. Because of Avrille's pure love and faith in me, I was able to pass through the wall with almost no effort.

Once inside, it was as if I were back in the river of memory. Colour exploded as normally hidden memories swilled against the black wall of repression, trying only half-heartedly to escape and completely happy to swirl around once more when blocked. I stayed right at the edge of the wall and delved into the first memory that passed my way.

Avrille was lying in bed in her room, much as how I had seen her in other memories. However, in this scene, she seemed to be just barely conscious. Her normally lustrous brown eyes were just two slits in a ravaged face. Though I couldn't see her body under the blankets, I could tell that it would be disturbingly skeletal. Her mother, a few wisps of grey already visible around her temples, held Avrille's limp hand in both of hers. She was weeping. Another woman, a Healer by the look of her uniform, was carefully tipping a potion between Avrille's barely parted lips. After administering the medicine, the Healer moved to stand beside Mrs Asphodel and placed a hand tenderly on her shoulder.

"Don't worry, ma'am. She'll soon be right as rain. I won't move from her side until she is…"

So, Avrille had already witnessed her father's murder and was being nursed back to health. I knew I had to go further back. I sifted through the memories until I found one where the Healer was not present, and Avrille was fully awake. However, it had been easier for me to see her as she had been before, drugged but receiving care.

Avrille was huddled on her bed, which was made and appeared to have been sat on but not slept in for quite some time. She was holding her knees drawn up to her chest, staring unblinking at the wall across from her. Mrs Asphodel was shaking her, begging her to talk, but Avrille would not acknowledge her presence. She was completely catatonic. Seeing that whatever damage Avrille had inflicted on herself was apparently already done, I kept moving.

It was a few days earlier. Avrille was still on her bed, almost in the same position, but this time with her face pressed against her arms. Mrs Asphodel was holding out a bowl of steaming porridge, trying to convince Avrille to take a spoonful. Avrille shook her buried head and whispered, "I'm not hungry."

"Avrille, you haven't eaten for three days!" her mother pleaded.

"I'm not hungry," came Avrille's emotionless response.

Only the knowledge that Avrille _had_ made a completely full physical recovery allowed me to keep my concentration intact while viewing these terrible scenes. I couldn't even imagine how her mother had been able to persevere through it all with the added grief of losing her husband.

I was quickly moving through all of the repressed memories and had yet to see something that would give me even the slightest clue as to what had stopped Avrille's magic. At the moment it appeared it had been simply from emotional and physical shock, but I was still adamant in my belief that would not have been enough by itself to cut off her power for over a decade. There _had_ to be something else…

Forcing myself to remain calm and not panic with frustration, I observed each memory as it came to me. They were all just a backwards account of Avrille's slip into catatonia and the arrival of the Healer. Finally, I came to the very last memory, the one that would show whether or not this whole endeavour had been pointless. I gathered every last bit of mental focus together as I dove into this final memory: the day of Avrille's father's murder.

I watched the scene play out. As it began I wondered why Avrille had shut it away. There didn't seem to be anything in it worse than her father's actual murder, which she _did_ consciously remember. Armand Asphodel returned early from work. He and his wife had a romantically inclined conversation in the kitchen, not knowing where Avrille was. Since it was Avrille's memory, I could see where she was clearly, upstairs in her room drawing. One thing Mrs Asphodel said to her husband _did _catch my notice, and I kept it in the back of my thoughts as I watched Asphodel run out of the house to battle the intruders while his wife searched the house for Avrille.

The same battle I had viewed before played out before me once again. I saw Asphodel fall and the killer vanish into the woods. I watched for the first time Mrs Asphodel throw open the back door to Avrille's room and grab her daughter by the arm, pulling her into the Floo with her. They arrived in a small, cluttered living room, probably belonging to Mrs Asphodel's parents since there were numerous photographs of Avrille and other small children on the walls. Mrs Asphodel turned her daughter to face her, demanding to know if she was all right. Avrille stared at her mother for a moment with an expression that I myself had seen a few months ago. Avrille uttered one sentence of only four words…

And I knew that I had found it.

In an instant everything fell into perfect place, and I was certain no one could have solved it but me. Someone else viewing the same memory would not have been able to discern the same clues as I, and that was because I had something deeply precious. Even before I knew I had her love, Avrille had, in a single conversation, shown me that I had her trust.

With the utmost painstaking care, I withdrew myself from the memory, then delicately took hold of it before it could float away. It was like trying to hold a spider web intact while swimming. Even more slowly than I had entered, I mentally backed out of through the wall surrounding the repressed memories, keeping the delicate web-work of thought cocooned with my remaining strength. Once through I let the river of memory gently take me away in its flow. I gave once last look to the nearly black wall of memories, wondering if somehow it would know I had removed the most preciously guarded gem. But now it didn't matter. If I was indeed correct with all of my conjecturing and conclusions, after viewing the memory I was removing, Avrille would hopefully be allowed to see those other past pains again soon without fear.

Leaving Avrille's mind was much quicker than trying to search my way through it. Within immeasurable moments, I was at the very edge of her consciousness. Here I stopped and tenderly placed down the memory I had rescued. Hoping my calculations were correct and that it would still be there when I left, I released Avrille from the Legilimency spell.

I fell back against the arm chair in sheer exhaustion. My hand holding my wand aloft was shaking uncontrollably. I had no idea how long I had been actually sustaining the spell. However, I was aware that I still had the most important task to accomplish; leaving a memory like that in Avrille's immediate consciousness when she awoke had the true risk of driving her instantly insane.

After taking a few deep breaths and willing my body and mind to act as a single entity once more, I Conjured a small glass vial. Raising my wand with effort, I placed the tip to Avrille's temple and slowly siphoned out the memory, which clung to my wand like spider silk. With a quick shake, I deposited the memory into the vial and sealed it with the stopper. I placed the vial on the coffee table next to me and raised my wand a final time to release Avrille from the sleeping charm. As Avrille slowly opened her eyes, I collapsed back into the chair, unable to even speak.

Avrille rubbed her eyes with the heels of her hand and looked over at me. I tried to give her a weak smile as I rested my forehead between trembling fingers, though I couldn't be sure if I had been able to move my lips or not.

"Severus!" she gasped, sitting up. She leaned over and took my wand from me before I dropped it, placing it on the table. "Are you all right?"

"Yes," I was able to whisper. My mind was so exhausted that I wasn't able to think of any words to explain what I had just done. Instead, I wearily jerked my chin slightly at the vial on the table.

Avrille's eyes widened. "You found something? But… it wasn't worth _this! _You're shaking like a leaf!"

I muttered, "Cabinet… red potion…" I felt like I was going to pass out at any moment. A headache was shooting from my temples across the bridge of my nose. I had never experienced this sort of aftereffect from Legilimency, but I had also never done anything as intense as tonight.

Avrille sprang up and ran over to the cabinet where she knew I kept my medicines. Fortunately, she knew exactly which one I had meant and brought it over immediately. She gently made me move over so she could sit directly next to me in the wide armchair. After removing the stopper, Avrille placed the potion in my hand while holding it steady with her own, allowing me to raise it to my lips and drink without pouring it all over myself. I swallowed and closed my eyes. I allowed the empty decanter to fall from my hands onto the carpet.

"I'll be all right… in a minute…" I said, opening my eyes slightly.

"Hush," Avrille said and placed her arm around me, tipping my head so it was resting on her shoulder. I closed my eyes once more and breathed in the warm perfume of Avrille's neck as the Strengthening Solution slowly spread life back into my limbs. While she held me tightly against her with her right arm, Avrille stroked my hair with the fingers of her left hand, making me wish that I could simply fall asleep. However, I knew that before I could sleep, I had to explain to Avrille what I had done and what our next move should be now that we had the memory.

The Strengthening Solution worked its way up into my head, dispelling some of the headache and allowing me to bring two thoughts together.

"What time is it?" I asked. Avrille craned her neck to read the clock behind us.

"Wow… Past three in the morning…"

We had started at seven in the evening, which meant I had been inside of Avrille's mind for over eight hours. No wonder I was on the verge of collapse.

"You need to go to bed," Avrille stated, turning her attention back to me.

I shook my head. "I want to tell you about the next steps we should take…" I made to reach for the vial, but Avrille gently held me back.

"No. You need to go to bed," she repeated firmly. I looked to Avrille in slight amazement. I had thought that more than anything she would have wanted to know immediately what I had found. However, hearing her tone of voice, I knew that it would be pointless to argue with her.

"Come on," she said and stood up. She offered her hands to me, and I was ashamed that I needed them to help me rise. Once standing, I felt as though I were deathly ill, the room spinning around me, and I almost fell to the floor. However, exhibiting a sudden incredible strength, Avrille grabbed me around my waist and helped me to stagger into my bedroom. I knew Avrille was right and, though the Strengthening Solution was helping to keep me coherent, I needed a very deep sleep to put everything to rights.

I fell on to the bed, and Avrille pulled off my shoes. Reaching across me, she pulled over the blanket.

"What will you do?" I asked. Avrille shrugged as she tucked the blanket in around me.

"I'm obviously not tired myself, so I'll probably just read in the other room." Then, somehow guessing my next statement, she added, "And I'll make sure to take a nap before the morning so I'm all rested for whatever you have planned tomorrow. That is, if _you _are well enough."

"I will be," I promised.

"You're sure that you're all right?" she asked one more time.

"Yes, I just need some sleep." I was already having to battle to keep my eyes open.

"Ok. I'll be right outside if you need anything. Good night," Avrille said and kissed me lightly on the lips. After blowing out the few lighted candles, she retired to the parlour, pulling the double doors gently closed behind her. I fell asleep instantaneously.

Fortunately, I slept very deeply and soundly. I had been slightly worried that, with such a taxation on my mind and after viewing such upsetting visions of Avrille's childhood, I would be vulnerable to nightmares thus making my time asleep virtually worthless in the healing respect. However, if I dreamt anything, when I awoke some time later I could not remember it. As I slowly opened my eyes in the complete darkness, I could feel instantly that my body was sore all over, most likely from sitting in the same hunched position for hours the night before. But besides that slight physical nuisance, in all other respects, I felt quite well. My headache had vanished, and my mind felt clear and collected. It seemed I had only been suffering from simple fatigue after such a lengthy mental exercise.

Remembering my wand was still in the other room, I closed my eyes once more and focused all of my concentration on lighting the lamp beside my bed. Though not nearly as talented as Dumbledore, I was able to do several magic spells without my wand, but it required an exponentially larger amount of concentration. A flare behind my eyelids told me I had succeeded, and I opened my eyes to reach blearily for my watch on the night stand. After squinting at the tiny numbers in the bright light, I was able to make out that it was just before noon. I sighed and dropped my head back on the pillow. I knew I had needed it, but I had never allowed myself to sleep so late in my life.

I forced myself out of bed and into the shower, hoping Avrille wasn't waiting for me and had eaten something. The hot water helped to relax some of my muscles in my back which were cramped into tight knots. After shaving and dressing, I opened the doors that separated us. Avrille was laying on the couch, covered by a soft blanket, and opened her eyes when she heard me enter.

"How are you feeling?" she asked as she sat up and stretched. It appeared she had already returned to her rooms once, since she had changed clothes as well. Her hair was slightly mussed from laying down, but the dishevelled look made her even more becoming than usual.

"Much recovered, thank you." I sat beside her. Avrille was still wrapped in the blanket and leaned against me.

"So, what exactly did you find last night?" she asked, unable to contain her curiosity any longer.

"That," I replied, pointing to the glass vial that was still sitting where I had left it the night before on the table. "I was able to locate and remove one of your blocked memories that I strongly believe is the direct cause of your magical stoppage."

"But, if you removed it," Avrille said, leaning forward to pick up the memory, "Why do I still feel like I can't do magic?" She tipped the vial back and forth, watching the silvery substance swirling on the inside, a movement somewhere between floating and sloshing.

"Unfortunately, it's not that simple," I said. "Since you couldn't remember the memory to begin with, removing it really isn't going to make much difference. What I think you have to do is actually _view_ the memory. Viewing it will make you understand it. Understanding leads to acceptance, and once acceptance is achieved, you can begin to heal."

Avrille nodded her head slowly at my words, her lips pursed as though deep in thought.

"So, how can I view it, then? Through Legilimency once more?"

I shook my head. "I have a better way, but it requires me to make a visit to the headmaster. He has a rare tool, a Pensieve, that will allow both of us to actually _enter_ the memory itself. Experiencing a memory through a Pensieve is as close as you can get to actually reliving it. It not only replays the immediate core of the memory, the part you would be able to consciously recall, but also all of the residual details. For example, say you are walking down the street, and you heard two people talking as you passed. Your brain, being the amazing machine that it is, will automatically record every single thing those two people say. However, it is highly unlikely you by yourself would be able to recall anything of that exchange at a later date. But placing a memory in a Pensieve amplifies every single detail, so you would once more be able to hear that superfluous conversation word for word."

"That's amazing…" Avrille said quietly. "And Professor Dumbledore has one of those?"

"Yes. I've borrowed it from him before to review some of my own memories, so I am sure he will lend it to me again. I think it would be best if we both went to eat now, separately of course, and after lunch I can hopefully approach Professor Dumbledore about it. If you want to come back down here in a few hours' time, I should have it."

I paused, trying to put into words all of the numerous concerns I was thinking. I lifted up a corner of the blanket and found Avrille's warm hand. I grasped it tightly as I looked deep into her dark eyes.

"You need to understand there are no guarantees that viewing this memory will do anything. I have hazarded a guess as to what it means, but I could be completely wrong. It might end up simply upsetting you."

"It's all right," Avrille said softly. "It's true that I did once hide it away, but that was when I was a little girl. Whatever it is, I'll handle it, and I will be fine. You don't need to worry about me."

"I can't help but worry about you," I whispered, bringing her hand to my lips. I knew this whole process was necessary for Avrille to ever hope to use magic, but I was just so afraid she would end up hurting for nothing. I knew she was an incredibly brave and strong woman, but I also couldn't help my own masculine instinct to protect her from any harm.

"I will be _fine_," she repeated with soft emphasis.

I hoped with all of my heart she would turn out to be right.

Dumbledore was not at lunch, so after eating I walked up to his office, hoping he had simply been busy and wasn't away from the castle at the moment. Obviously Avrille's contained memory wasn't going anywhere, but I had the need to finish the whole business as soon as possible. Fortunately, Dumbledore _was_ in his office, reading with a concerned expression that made his aged face seem even more lined than usual. I hated myself for thinking it, but with the attention of Dumbledore and the other teachers distracted with the attacks in the school, it was that much easier for Avrille and me to remain undetected.

I asked for the Pensieve, simply saying I had a memory I wanted to review, which was absolutely the truth. Dumbledore was happy to accommodate me, so, holding the Pensieve carefully, I stepped into the Floo in his office and then out into my own rooms. I hadn't wanted to risk carrying such a priceless artefact down so many stairs when my muscles were already screaming from the walk up.

Glad that it had been so easy to obtain the Pensieve, I immediately pulled out the stopper sealing away Avrille's memory and poured it into the shallow stone basin. I swilled the memory around a few times until looking inside I could make out an aerial view of Avrille's childhood bedroom. I wanted to review the memory one more time in its entirety before Avrille came, so I took a slow, deep breath and allowed myself to fall forward.

Seeing the memory for a second time reinforced my belief that this was the key to the whole mystery. The Pensieve made everything even more discernable and detailed. I could see exactly what Avrille had been drawing and even hear the songs of birds floating in through the open window. Once the entire scene was completed, I left the vision of Avrille at her grandparents' house and pulled myself out of the Pensieve.

I didn't know how long it would be until Avrille came back, so I tried to distract myself to make the time pass more quickly. To be honest, I felt like I was always trying to make the time pass more quickly when Avrille wasn't with me. For the first time in over three months, I pulled out my various notes I had started over the summer concerning the Invisibility Potion I had wanted to try and invent. At the time it had seemed so important. I had wanted to create something so impressive that I would be remembered for years to come. Now however, I found that, though it would still be an interesting theory to pursue, I really didn't care if I succeeded or not. I would much rather put my effort towards helping Avrille and providing her with the best life I could.

A little bit after three, Avrille arrived, looking fresh and rested. I hoped her refreshed state would help her handle the difficult scene she was about to view. I was standing next to the Pensieve, which I had placed on my desk. With a deep sigh of commitment, she came to stand next to me.

"So that's it?" she asked after a moment's silence.

"Yes. We can begin whenever you're ready."

"I don't think I'm ever going to be truly ready, so let's just get this over with."

I nodded solemnly. "All we have to do is lean over the Pensieve. Its magic will pull us into the memory, and from there we simply have to watch it unfold."

I waited, thinking Avrille might want to make the first move. However, she simply stood there, staring at the swirling silver mist of her memory with wide, unblinking eyes. Reaching out, I gently took her hand and held it tightly.

"I will be with you," I said reassuringly.

Avrille looked to me, and I could see she was slightly pale. I was well aware that this whole time she had been putting on a brave face, speaking as though witnessing this memory would be easy, and it was only the slight trembling I felt in her fingers that were pressed against the back of my hand that gave her fear away.

In a voice calm and composed, Avrille said, "I'm ready."

Together we leaned forward until our faces were almost touching the vaporous surface of her memory. In an instant, we were falling through cold darkness then blinded with the bright sunshine of the Canadian afternoon.

Avrille held a hand up to her eyes until she was adjusted to the light, then looked around. We were in her bedroom, a small but cosy space with pale pink walls and white furniture. Young Avrille was seated on the carpeted floor at a low table in the middle of the room, colouring a picture while humming quietly to herself. She was dressed in worn, comfortable brown corduroy pants and an oversized shirt with paint stains on it. Her hair, even longer than it was now, was braided into two plaits that reached past her waist. My Avrille, still holding my hand tightly, walked forward to look at herself.

"Wow…" she said, smiling. "I was so little…"

"And very cute," I added, smiling as well, though hesitantly, knowing what would soon be coming. Avrille leaned over slightly so she could get a better look at what her younger self was drawing. Even though it was obviously childish, it was easy to make out that it was of two people: a small girl with long brown hair and a grown man with the same colour hair down to his shoulders. They were holding hands. Under the picture in painstakingly careful printing was the caption, "For: Daddy, Love: Avrille."

After a moment, Avrille said, "I know this picture! My mom still has it framed in her room since I drew it the day…" she trailed off the painful realisation. She looked to me, and I nodded sadly.

"Since you stay here drawing for most of the memory, I think it will be much more beneficial to go downstairs and listen to your parents," I said.

"All right," Avrille said, taking a last look at the drawing. She gave her younger self one more smile before following me through the open bedroom door and down the stairs. At the bottom of the stairs was the kitchen where Mrs Asphodel was standing at the stove cooking.

"Mom's making apple jam," Avrille said at once. I looked to her in amazement that she would remember something like that.

"It burned when we left the house during the attack," she explained. "We couldn't get rid of the smell for months…"

Just then the front door opened silently, and Armand Asphodel crept through. When she saw her father, Avrille placed a hand over her mouth. I could see tears shining in her eyes. She let go of my hand and hurried over to him. When she reached out to touch his shoulder as he hung up his coat, her hand went through him. I realised I should have warned her about that. Nevertheless, Avrille seemed to accept it instantly and followed the memory of her father as he snuck up behind her mother. He grabbed her around her waist and kissed her neck, making Mrs Asphodel shriek in surprise and nearly drop the spoon she had been stirring with.

"Armand!" she gasped, turning around to face him. "What are you doing home so early?"

Avrille instinctually looked to a wall where she knew a clock normally hung in her house. It read that it was only two in the afternoon.

"Cid needed some overtime, so I let him have the rest of my shift," Asphodel explained, then kissed his wife passionately on the lips. Avrille smiled at the sight. Out of the corner of my eye, I glanced up the stairs to see little Avrille watching the scene downstairs, biting her lip and worrying the hem of her painting smock between tiny fingers.

Separating herself from her husband after a moment, Mrs Asphodel told him, "Well I'm busy making jam, so why don't you go find Avrille and see what she's up to."

"In a minute," her husband replied and kissed her once again.

"Now come on, we have plenty of time for that later tonight. If I don't keep stirring this, it will burn," Mrs Asphodel said, rather prophetically. Asphodel sighed and leaned back against one of the kitchen counters.

"So, how is Avrille today?" he asked as his wife turned back to the stove.

"Pretty good... I think she's in the living room listening to the radio. She said she had a bad dream last night, though. She woke up right after you left for work, crying hysterically. She didn't want to talk about it, but she seems fine now."

I looked to Avrille as her mother said this. Avrille furrowed her eyebrows as she listened, but said nothing.

"She's probably forgotten all about it," her father said. "Children are like that."

"It was strange though… All morning she kept pestering me, making sure that you were at work. I don't know where else she _thought_ you would be…"

Again, I looked at Avrille. She was biting her thumbnail, but still glued to the conversation. I took a step closer and reached for her hand once more, knowing what was about to happen.

Asphodel sighed and beat some flour off of his jacket. "Who knows. Maybe I'll take her for a walk down by the lake. She always enjoys feeding the ducks…" He pushed off from the counter and walked towards one of the windows. As soon as he looked outside, his face blanched white. Four hooded men could be seen stalking silently toward the back door.

"Dora, find Avrille and go to your mother's house," he commanded in a terrifying monotone.

"What?" Mrs Asphodel asked distractedly.

"DO IT! NOW!" he yelled and bolted out the back door. Mrs Asphodel spun around to see what was the matter. She ran to the window just in time to see her husband shoot a charm at the four intruders, making their hoods fly off into the grass. This momentarily surprised the men, giving Asphodel a chance to stun one of them. The battle began.

Avrille's mother tore away from the window, screaming Avrille's name in sheer terror. Beside me, I saw tears were now flowing freely down Avrille's face. Still gripping my hand tightly, she pulled me after her as she ran back upstairs. This confused me, for I had assumed she would have either wanted to watch her father's battle or follow her mother. Instead, she brought us back into her own bedroom where her younger self was standing frozen with fear at the window. Shouts and yelled curses from outside mingled with her mother's panicked pleading as she searched the rooms of the house for her daughter.

Releasing my hand, Avrille dropped to her knees in front of her remembered self, flexing her fingers as though she yearned to hold the small girl in front of her but couldn't bear the sensation of her hands passing straight through. Young Avrille remained transfixed as I had always seen her in this part of the memory, watching every movement her father made, only flinching slightly when one of his spells hit an attacker. Avrille still ignored the battle outside, her eyes locked on her younger face.

Then came the flash of green light, casting the porcelain skin of the two Avrilles in a sickly hue. Avrille's attention snapped around in time to see her father fall, his eyes full of horror at the sight of his tiny daughter, still in danger in the house. He hit the grass soundlessly.

"_DADDY!"_ Avrille screamed, falling onto her hands and knees. I dropped beside her and clutched her against me as she was wracked with sobbing convulsions. Not even waiting to complete the memory, I pulled Avrille up onto her feet and took us out of the Pensieve.

We hit the floor of my room, and I let us drop to our knees once more. Avrille was hysterical. She held me so tightly that it constricted my breathing and pressed her face against my chest, staining my robes with her tears. I threaded the fingers of one hand through her hair and rocked her gently, instinctually remembering what my mother had used to do to comfort me. With every sob Avrille screamed out her pain.

Even while holding all of this heart-wrenching sorrow in my arms, I suddenly noticed something: I was getting wet, and not only from Avrille's tears. I looked up and was hit in the face with numerous drops of water. For a split moment, I feared perhaps there was a leak and the lake was dripping in, but then I realised it was _raining_. I also noticed that it was only above the two of us; the rest of my sitting room, fortunately, was stone dry. Although we were soon becoming drenched as the magical rain increased in intensity, I continued to cradle Avrille in my arms and allowed myself just the smallest glimmer of hope.

After a few more minutes, Avrille seemed to exhaust herself. She remained pressed against my chest, but soon finally noticed that the two of us were saturated.

"What…?" Avrille asked quietly, holding up a dripping sleeve.

"I was hoping you could tell me," I said, unable to keep in a small smile as Avrille's reddened eyes opened wide in wonder.

"You mean… You're not doing this?" she asked with disbelief.

"No."

She pulled away from me and turned her face up into the rain. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, the air around us smelling as fresh and fragrant as if we really were caught in a spring shower.

Eyes still closed, Avrille screwed up her face in concentration. Immediately, the rain stopped. She opened her eyes and actually laughed.

"I did that!" she exclaimed.

"I know," I whispered, unable to express to her the miracle of what I was witnessing.

"Do you mind if I dry us off?" I asked, hoping that she wouldn't be offended that I wanted to remove the signs of her first real magic so quickly.

"No, go ahead" she replied. I took out my wand and blanketed the two of us in a warm Drying Charm. As it took effect, Avrille said suddenly, "It was all my fault."

This was the same sentence that she as a child had said to her mother as soon as they escaped the house that day, though then, of course, in the present tense. I continued to dry us and didn't speak, wanting Avrille to have a chance to come to terms with the knowledge she had just regained.

"It was my fault, but it wasn't my fault," she continued. "I had completely forgotten about the whole thing… but the night before my father was killed, I had a vision of his death. In the dream four men attacked our house and one of them killed him." She shook her head at the memory, her hair mostly dry but still dripping at the ends. I nodded silently. That had been what I had guessed when viewing the memory by myself.

"The scene in the vision had taken place during the daytime, so I thought if my father went to work he would be safe. He never came home before sunset, you see. The restaurant always kept him so busy. But, like you saw, that day he came home early."

Avrille looked up and met my eyes. Her face was red and tearstained, but I had never seen her look more beautiful. Somehow there was a clarity in her eyes that had never been there before. It was though a tiny flame were burning behind each iris. I reached down and brushed away stray strands of hair sticking to her cheeks.

"I blamed myself for his death. I told myself that if I had only told my parents about my visions, then the whole thing could have been avoided." She sighed and leaned against my chest once more. Now that we were completely dry, I put down my wand and ran my fingers over her hair as she kept talking.

"After the attack, my mother and I spent the night at my grandparents' house. I wouldn't allow myself to go to sleep… No, I physically _could not_ sleep. My grandmother wanted us to move in with them, but my mother was convinced getting back home to where things were familiar might help me. She was wrong, but she couldn't have known any better. I didn't sleep for six days. She finally had to bring in a Healer to force me unconscious. But, before that, I had sworn to myself that I would _never_ have a vision again. Because I didn't know how to stop only the visions, I shoved all of my magic into a small place in the back of my mind. I thought that if I became like a normal little Muggle girl, then everything would be ok from then on."

Avrille wrapped her arms around my neck.

"I need to go back into the memory," she whispered against my ear.

"What?" I exclaimed, taking hold of her shoulders and moving her so I could look her in the eyes. "No, not after something so upsetting. You need time to recover."

She gently broke my hold and stood up. Looking up at her, it was like being at the feet of a goddess. Power now flowed from her, and I wouldn't have been surprised to see sparks of lightning playing around her fingertips.

"I know you want to protect me, but I have to go back," she said once more, only this time stern and absolute.

I stood as well. "Then I'm coming with you again," I said, knowing she wouldn't be swayed from her wish. She took a full measure of me, then nodded once curtly and turned back toward the Pensieve. Though I knew she hadn't mean it, I had never felt so utterly unneeded by her before. Now that her own magic was once more flowing through her veins, Avrille would no longer need me as a physical protector. I hoped, however, she would at least allow me to pretend that she still did.

I moved forward so that I was right next to her in front of the Pensieve again. Avrille looked to me and smiled faintly, for a moment breaking the grim determination set in her face. She allowed me to take hold of her hand before we fell through the freezing swirling black mist and back into her memory.

We landed at the same moment as before. Young Avrille was drawing at her table, her father not yet having come home. This time, Avrille sat down beside herself, almost in the exact pose as her young reflection and watched the movement of the crayons spreading colour across the paper. I stood a little off to the side, understanding that though she didn't seem to be actually doing anything, Avrille was finally coming to terms with the memory. When the sound of her father's voice flowed up the stairs to her ears, young Avrille jumped up and ran over to the doorway to look down into the kitchen. Before, I hadn't been exactly sure of the reason behind the girl's expression of sheer terror, but now I knew it was because she had been so scared to hear her father home early. Avrille remained sitting still beside the drawing table, watching her past self looking down on her parents downstairs.

There came the loud bang of Asphodel slamming the door behind him as he rushed out into the yard. This noise made young Avrille start, then run over to look out the open window. Avrille did not get up, but scooted over on her knees so that once more, like earlier, she was kneeling beside her memory. Throughout the battle she remained kneeling, watching her younger self with a look of empathy on her face. As the light of the killing curse turned the pale pink walls momentarily green, Avrille raised a hand. I would never have believed what happened next if I had not been there myself to witness it.

The memory froze. Avrille placed her hands on the shoulders of her remembered self, and they did not pass though. I could see her fingertips indenting the fabric of the young girl's shirt as she turned her so they were face to face, Avrille was still kneeling so they were almost eye-level.

Avrille reached up and brushed back the girl's fringe, whispering, "It's ok."

Young Avrille started to cry, her tiny body shaking under the strong but gentle hands of her older self.

"I should have told," she sobbed.

Avrille shook her head with a small, consoling smile. "It wouldn't have mattered."

"But it's my fault!" Young Avrille smeared at her tears with the sleeve of her stained shirt. The shirt was much too large for her, perhaps an old one of her father's, and her small fingers barely could be seen peeking out of the sleeve.

"No," Avrille said forcefully. "Do you see that man out there?" she asked, pointing at the back of her father's killer, frozen with the scene outside in mid-flight. Young Avrille nodded, still wiping her face with her hand clenched inside the cuff of her sleeve.

"It's _his_ fault. _He_ did it," Avrille said.

"HE DID IT!" Young Avrille repeated in an angry yell. "I HATE HIM!"

Avrille ran her hand over the girl's long braids. "It's ok to be angry. He did a terrible thing, but he was caught and punished. He will never hurt you again." Avrille embraced her memory, the girl collapsing against her and wrapping her arms around Avrille's neck. Avrille kept her hands tight against the girl's back, pressing her even closer. I watched as Avrille slowly pressed the image of her childhood self back into her own body until only the two of us remained in the bedroom. Avrille then stood and the memory dissolved around us. We were back in my parlour. The Pensieve sat empty, Avrille having reintegrated the memory back into her own mind.

"It's over," she said quietly.

"No, it's just beginning," I said and took Avrille into my arms, kissing her deeply.


	27. Chapter Twenty Seven: AVRILLE

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

_Avrille_

I let my body sag limply against Severus as he held me. I was exhausted, though I knew nowhere near as much as he had been the night before. He had done so much for me, and I didn't know how I could ever repay him. I let Severus lead me back over to the couch where I lay down and rested my head on his lap. I was so drained that I fell asleep almost instantly.

I awoke in the late evening, still in the same position. Although I had been so tired I doubt I would have noticed if he had left, Severus had not moved. He was slowly stroking my hair as he read a book he had undoubtedly Summoned over to pass the time. He placed it down on a side table when he noticed that I was awake.

"How do you feel?" he asked quietly.

"I'm not sure," I replied honestly and sat up. I was certain my magic had fully returned to me, but I couldn't exactly explain how. It was like knowing my heart was beating or that my lungs were breathing; it was just something I could instinctually _feel_ inside of me.

"I want to try some magic," I said suddenly and stood up. Severus raised an eyebrow but said nothing to stop me.

I reached into a pocket and pulled out my wand. In a flash of optimism before coming down to Severus' rooms, I had decided to bring it along with me in case we were actually able to "fix" me. Now I held it aloft, determined to finally conquer the one spell I had ever been able to consciously produce.

With a slight reservation, I whispered, "_Lumos_."

I physically fell backwards onto the couch once more as the sitting room, normally illuminated with only the fire and a few candles, was flooded with the blazing light of a supernova, completely blinding me.

With panicked instinct, I thought, _Nox Nox Nox!_ and the light vanished back into my wand. I let out a deep breath as white and green blotches danced in front of my eyes, not sure whether to be more astounded by the power of the spell or the fact that I had been able to stop it nonverbally. I turned to look at Severus who, of course, had not even moved a muscle in surprise and was now stroking his chin thoughtfully.

"Quite impressive," he murmured, and I saw that he had _that look_ on his face; the look of calculating curiosity.

"Severus…" I said with a teasing warning tone.

"What?" he asked in wide-eyed innocence.

"You were just wondering if it would be possible to make it even brighter, weren't you?"

He looked affronted at the mere suggestion. "No, of course not." I gave him a look of my own. "Well… perhaps. A bit," he conceded.

I smiled and shook my head. It was because of his interest in always pushing the boundaries just a little further that he was such a brilliant potion-maker and writer. I, on the other hand, was much more interested in making what I already _had_ useful. A light that is so bright it blinds you was almost worse than being without a light at all.

"In all seriousness, though," Severus said, "I think we should probably continue meeting several times a week as we have been, though now to work on your magic."

"Yes," I said vehemently. "I want to learn how to do _everything. _I have years of spells to catch up on."

Severus regarded me for a moment before saying, "Somehow I don't think that's necessarily true."

"Why not?" I asked.

Severus raised a finger then stood up. "I want you to try something for me." He picked up his book once more then walked across the room to the far wall which was covered completely by bookshelves. He replaced the book in a seemingly random row almost in the dead center of the wall. He took out his wand and came back to sit next to me.

"You see that book?" he asked. I nodded. It was easily noticeable since the book had a red spine and it interrupted a running set of black volumes where he had shelved it. "I want you to Summon it over here," he said simply.

"Why did you take out your wand?" I asked.

"No particular reason… Go ahead and Summon it."

I shook my head, feeling stupid. "But I don't know _how_," I insisted.

"Yes, you do," Severus said patiently. "Just concentrate on willing that book from where it is into your hand."

I took a deep breath and raised my wand. Hardening my gaze, I focused in on the red spine and willed it to come to me. I saw the book tremble and slide just an inch out of the shelf before the contents of the entire wall-books, paintings, lighting fixtures, everything-came flying directly at me. Only Severus' lightning-fast Shielding Charm kept the two of us from being pulverized. The books and other objects crashed against the shield, thousands of pages ripping loose from the impact of the collision. Severus removed the shield as I stared open-mouthed at the paper apocalypse surrounding us.

"I suppose you were expecting that," I remarked, shaking slightly, turning to look at Severus who had a quite unexpected expression upon his face for one who had just seen most of his worldly possessions demolished. He looked almost satisfied.

"I had an feeling," he replied with a half-smile. With a few sets of sweeping gestures with his wand, Severus repaired all of the destroyed books then sent everything flying back slowly and orderly onto the shelves. After a minute it looked like nothing had ever happened.

"I want you to try again," Severus said, "only this time while you focus on Summoning the book, concentrate also on keeping everything _else_ where it is."

I took a deep breath and raised my wand once more. I closed my eyes and tried to imagine a giant hand pressing against the far wall with two fingers spread apart to make an opening to allow the book through. Trying to keep the feeling behind the mental picture, I opened my eyes and tried the Summoning Charm once more. This time only the red book and the books on that shelf came zooming at me before being deflected by Severus' shield once more. The rest of the books and wall hangings shuddered for a moment but stayed put.

"I hope this is showing you that you have little to 'catch up on'," Severus said as he levitated the books back to their places again. He then put down his wand and turned to face me. "Memorizing incantations and wand movements is simply a way of giving children who are new to magic and untrained in their mental concentration something concrete to focus on. Those who have more talent are able to then progress to invoking the spells nonverbally. The most powerful, like you and me, can eventually perform spells by simply directing the magic to find the most natural solution to a problem. However, while I had to study and practice for years to be able to do this, it appears you have always been able to do it naturally.

"The problem for you is that you have so much raw power, you are going to have to somehow corral it so you accomplish only what you want."

"I only have my magic back for one day, and I already have to try to block it again," I said.

Severus thought for a moment, trying to find the best words to express what he was thinking. He finally said, "It's not so much blocking it as it is focusing it. The Lumos spell is a good metaphor; instead of allowing your magic to explode like the light of the sun, you need to concentrate it into a single, searing ray."

"I suppose that makes sense," I said. I let myself fall back against the couch and covered my eyes, still stinging slightly from the bright light, with my hands. Even though I had napped a little, I still felt like I had run ten miles earlier in the day. My brain ached from trying to sort through all of the memories that had come flooding back. I felt Severus put his arm around me, and I flopped over to rest my head on his shoulder. He seemed to know instinctually how overwhelmed I was feeling.

"You don't have to rush anything," he said. "You have always managed fine without magic, so what you will be able to do from now on is just a bonus. You have the rest of your life to master your power."

I nodded, thinking how much I hoped he would be right there beside me for the rest of my life to guide me through it all. Though I knew Severus was itching to have me try some more magic for him, he knew how tired I was and didn't ask me to do anything else. He Summoned his book back over one more time and read while I leaned against his chest and listened to his heartbeat. I couldn't believe that it had only been twenty-four hours since Severus had put me to sleep for the Passive Legilimency. It seemed weeks ago. And I was so tired…

Finally making myself face the fact that I needed to get started on a full night's uninterrupted sleep, I sat up and told Severus I was going to bed.

"Will you be alright alone? Do you want to stay here?" he asked.

As much as I wanted to, I forced myself to decline. I knew that after what he went through the night before, Severus could also do with another decent night of rest, which he probably wouldn't get on the couch. So, giving Severus one more, quite long kiss, I stepped into the Floo and returned to my own rooms.

Caligula had been sleeping on the warm hearthstones and leapt several feet vertically into the air when I almost trod on his tail exiting the fireplace. I bent over to scratch his head in apology, but as I reached out my hand, Caligula suddenly splayed his feet with his stomach pressed against the rug. His tail puffed up like a bottlebrush, and I could hear a growl rivalling the grinding of tectonic plates rumbling in the back of his throat. I dropped my hand and sank to my knees. It seemed that with the restoration of my magic, my cat no longer recognized me. With a backwards scuttle that would have been comical in different circumstances, Caligula retreated to under the couch where he could still watch me with beady eyes but have some protection over his head.

For a moment I felt like crying, but then I realized I was sick and tired of crying. Instead I became angry. Without even pulling out my wand, I reached out with my hands and Summoned Caligula to me. With a cut-off yelp, he skidded across the carpet and into my grasp. Scruffing him with one hand and holding his face in the other, I glared into Caligula's crossed blue eyes, shining red at the moment in the firelight.

"Bad boy! I am your mother and you _will love me!_" I growled at him. Caligula grumbled a little but sheathed his claws. I put him down, and he waltzed away with his tail held high, made a circuit around the sofa, then came back and sat in my lap as though it had been entirely his own idea. However, he did not grace me with a purr and instead began to wash his face lavishly, letting me know that he understood, but he was still a cat with a _reputation_ to uphold_._ I ran my hand over his fur, tossing the loose fuzz balls into the fire behind me, glad that we had sorted that out.

The next day I spent with Severus trying to start to get a grip on my powers. He walked me through some mental exercises he had used to do when he was younger and studying Occlumency and Legilimency. They were mainly things like trying to maintain my concentration on an easy spell while Severus tried to distract me. However, I thought this was rather unfair because I highly doubted that Severus had had to try and keep an expensive vase levitating six feet off of the floor while _his_ teacher ran a finger seductively down the back of his neck. I almost challenged Severus to see if he could do it while I tried to distract _him_ in such a way, but decided against it since it would just be depressing if he managed with no problem.

Severus also expressed his wish to begin teaching me Occlumency itself, since now that I had access to such painful and powerful memories, it would be easy for an enemy to use them against me. I didn't exactly know who would ever attack me in such a way, but Severus was just that sort of person who assumed the worst was always possible. It definitely took me a while to get used to the sensation of having to repel Severus from my mind when I had become so used to his additional presence inside my head. Eventually I got the hang of it to the point where Severus was satisfied enough to focus our attention on something else.

The rest of February and the beginning of March passed so quickly. Both Severus and I were more busy than ever with school work. Exams for the fifth and seventh year students were looming ever closer, and Severus was often stuck in his office until almost midnight grading all of the extra work he assigned to help prepare them for their tests in a few months' time. Since, as a lowly apprentice, I wasn't supposed to grade the work of such "advanced" students, I had to be content with simply keeping Severus company while he worked and making sure that he had a steady stream of coffee and tea at his disposal. He hated how all of the extra work cut into our time alone together, but I understood how high his standards for his students were. The better they performed on their exams, the better it would reflect on him as a teacher.

Halfway through March it was time for Family Weekend. This was a time when the parents of students could visit the school if they wished and hold conferences with the teachers if they had any questions about their children's progress before the final term and exams. Almost all of the students had at least one relative visit them, so both Severus and Professor Sprout were booked solid with conferences which could only last a few minutes due to the amount of parents who requested them. This was an area again in which I was unable to help, so I tried to stay out of everyone's way, which was rather difficult since the castle was swarming with about three times more people than normal. Severus told me earlier in the week that even more parents had written and requested appointments with him than usual, since the attacks earlier in the school year had caused so much apprehension. Fortunately, there still had not been an attack since the one before Christmas, so everyone's worry was slightly alleviated.

Sunday morning, Severus had even _more_ appointments, so I doubted I would see him at all. I had barely spoken two words to him all weekend. Whenever I saw him, he was perpetually surrounded by a dozen parents dogging him with questions about their children. I knew it was part of his duty as a Head of House, but it still annoyed me since Severus had mentioned that he thought me ready to start to learn Apparation, and I was dying to try it out.

Since I had slept in and eaten a late breakfast in my room, I wasn't hungry enough at lunchtime to join everyone else in the Great Hall. I also think I subconsciously wanted to avoid the place where so many happy children would be with their mothers and fathers. Since it was the first sunny day in a long time, I decided to go stretch my legs and take in some fresh mountain air.

I left the castle behind me and followed the winding, student-created path down to the lake. While a pale sun was managing to cast its weak rays across the grounds, it was quite cold with winter still hanging on tenaciously to its last days before giving way to spring. The air was thick with the clean smell of ice dripping from crisp pine needles. Melting snow, thick and blue-grey, covered the muddy grass, though it was mostly dimpled and sagging into hollow pockets. A few rogue shoots of green grass could be seen here and there slicing determinedly through the crackly glazed layer of refrozen ice. The path to the lake was thick with mud and slush from students traipsing down all weekend to show their parents the magnificent view. However, the lake shore seemed completely empty at the moment, and I enjoyed the echoing silence around me.

As I turned the last bend around a small copse of beech trees, I found the shore was not empty like I had assumed since I almost trod on Draco Malfoy. He had been sitting against one of the larger beech trees, looking at a book which he quickly hid behind him as though he didn't want to be caught dead doing something so completely uncool as _reading._ However, when he saw it was me and not another student, he slowly brought the book back out and placed it on his lap.

"Good afternoon, Mistress Asphodel," he said quietly, his pale face just a little pink in the cheeks from being startled. He had melted the snow around him and was sitting on a dry patch of decayed golden leaves.

"Why aren't you at the feast, Draco? I thought you would be showing your parents around," I said. I took out my wand and copied Draco's example, melting a circle of snow under a tree a few feet away from him, then drying the ground beneath. I sat and leaned against the smooth silver bark of the beech.

"They didn't come," he muttered. Then, to try and cover up the tone of slight disappointment, he added in a more lofty voice, "That is, my marks are so good that Professor Snape didn't need to speak to them about _me_!"

"I suppose that's a good problem to have," I commented, pulling my knees up to my chest to preserve body heat. A shrill wind whipped off the choppy surface of the lake and seemed to go straight through my cloak.

"Besides," Draco added, "They both went to school here, so it's not like there's anything new for them to see."

I nodded silently, watching Draco out of the corner of my eye. He seemed to be saying these things more for his own benefit than mine. In a twisted way, I was actually disappointed the Malfoys hadn't shown up. Loath though I was to ever see Lucius again, I had been interested to catch a glimpse of his wife and see for myself what sort of woman could stand being married to him.

Draco opened up his book once more, but flipped through it distractedly instead of actually reading. I could see from where I sat it was his Potions textbook, and for some reason that surprised me. I knew from grading his papers with Severus that Draco _was_ a good student, but it was weird seeing him out here studying instead of picking on whatever first year he could find smaller than himself. Though, now that I thought about it, I had probably only seen him bully a younger student only a few times the whole year. For some reason those instances filled up my recollections of him, and it suddenly dawned on me that I was just as prejudiced against Draco as Severus was against Harry Potter.

It always bothered me how hard Severus was on Harry, especially after telling me that he used to be friends with Harry's mother. I was of the opinion that whatever James Potter had done to Severus in the past to warrant such dislike from even beyond the grave, it was still no excuse to be so hard on Harry who, after all, had never even _known_ his father. But here I was doing exactly the same thing. Because of what Lucius had done to me earlier in the year, I found myself ignoring Draco in class or thinking mean thoughts about him when he had never been anything but polite and respectful to me.

As Draco continued to finger through his textbook, I forced myself to look at him with complete objectivity. It was true that he greatly resembled his father and would probably be very handsome when he grew up. But whereas Lucius was confident and sleek with the poise of a lion, Draco was only ever confident when he had two or more cronies backing him up. Here alone I noticed for the first time how small he was, and reminded myself that he was only twelve, still a child. Though he was not frail, Draco certainly did not look altogether happy and healthy. His posture was hunched and defensive as he leaned over his book as though to block it from view from anyone else coming around the path unexpectedly.

Something about the way his fingers moved over the pages suddenly reminded me of Severus, and I thought how easily this could have been _him_ years ago, hiding away from the commotion of the castle. Though he never spoke about it, I knew Severus had not had a happy childhood. I assumed he had not gotten along with his father since I had never heard Severus mention him once. I also had a feeling that, like Draco, Severus had come from a family with at least _some_ money. Now looking at Draco, with his slight frame and Slytherin robes, it was so easy to mentally switch his short blonde hair for black that fell into his eyes and obscured his face. I came to the realization that, instead of disliking Draco, I felt immense pity for him.

Guessing my presence was interrupting Draco's need for face-saving solitude, I stood once more, said goodbye to him, and walked back up the path to the castle. Lunch had just ended, so scores of parents and students were flowing from the enormous doorway of the Great Hall. Completely swept up in the tide and unable to escape, I was quickly snared by various students who wanted to introduce me to their parents. These were mostly first and second years who were still young enough to think teachers were like celebrities. Little Nan Cobble of Hufflepuff grabbed hold of my sleeve and positively dragged me over to meet her parents, a very amiable, though slightly harried-looking, Muggle couple. Nan had just finished telling her parents that I was from "Ca-NAY-da," when she spotted Luna Lovegood and ran off to reel in her friend as well. Mrs. Cobble gave me a good-natured wink before excusing herself and pulling her exhausted husband after their daughter.

While wishing I was proficient at Disillusionment Charms, I slowly made my constantly interrupted way to the staircase. Finally I was able to sprint up the stairs and into my own rooms where I remained for the rest of the day, too exhausted to risk another venturing out.

Later that week, spring finally came to Hogwarts, though only in the technical sense; the winds off the lake were still as fierce and cold as ever. On the first of April, we were all unpleasantly surprised by an April Fool's snow shower which was so intense all lessons occurring outside of the castle were cancelled. Since that meant my Herbology observation of the day had been cancelled as well, I spent my free period upstairs in my room, staring out of the window; not that I could see much of anything besides solid white, of course.

I was trying to write a letter to my mother, but it was very slow going. Caligula _was_ trying to eat my quill as I wrote, but the main reason was that over the past few months it had become more and more difficult to find things to say. I had not yet told my mom about Severus, thinking that was something she should hear directly from me in person. I knew if she read about it in a letter, she wouldn't understand properly and think I was simply infatuated with him since I had been so obsessed with his writing in graduate school.

Not telling my mom about Severus meant I also couldn't tell her about my magic returning to me. There was no way to explain how that had come about without mentioning Severus' key role, so I was putting off that announcement as well. Maybe once my apprenticeship was over, I could visit home and surprise Mom by Apparating into the house, that is, assuming I could get the hang of it by then. Severus had begun trying to teach me the previous weekend, and it had not gone well.

Finally scribbling off something having to do with the weather and Caligula's amazing talent of finding numerous mice within the confines of my apartment to kill and leave half-eaten at the foot of my bed, I sealed the letter. I then put it aside to mail on Saturday, since Severus and I would most likely be going down to Hogsmeade again for Apparation lessons. Because it was impossible to Apparate within the Hogwarts grounds (though, of course, house-elves were able to somehow), I had met Severus on the outskirts of Hogsmeade last weekend to work on the skill. Since it was not a student-weekend, the area around the Shrieking Shack was guaranteed to be deserted, and that was where we practiced. However, no matter how many times Severus explained the process, demonstrating vanishing to and from the Shrieking Shack numerous times in front of me, I could not make myself move an inch, except downwards when turning on the spot happened to be on a patch of ice, and I fell on my rear.

…Which was still sore, incidentally. I stood up from my writing desk and dove headfirst onto my bed. The movement made the parcel that had been laying on the silken duvet slide off and thump onto the floor. In the box was my birthday present from my mom, its arrival reminding me that it had been a while since I had written to her. I sighed and rolled onto my back. My birthday was in three days, and I doubted Severus would know about it. After all, I had no idea when _his_ birthday was. It didn't seem right to mention to him, "Hey, Severus, my birthday is on Sunday…" cause that would make him think he had to rush and get me a present. Presents were nice, of course, but I simply wanted him to _know_ about it and without making him feel obligated to do anything. Well, at least I was bound to be spending the day with him, so that would have to be enough for now.

By Saturday morning, most of the freak blizzard's snow had melted, leaving the grounds outside of the castle treacherously slick and muddy; I would not have been at all surprised if Hagrid' hut had slid straight down into the lake. A few of the Muggle-born students had somehow come across a soccer ball and were already completely brown from head to foot five minutes into their game.

Severus had asked me to come down to his room after breakfast to go to Hogsmeade for another Apparation lesson. I dressed in rather shabby clothes, knowing that in all likelihood I would end up on my butt again from failed attempts and probably a few times simply walking down to the village. As I stepped out of the Floo into his parlour, I saw Severus looking strikingly handsome like always. I don't think he had ever owned a pair of "shabby" clothes in his life.

"Are you ready?" he asked as he pulled on a light cloak.

"Yes," I replied, "but aren't we going separately like last week?" Still concerned with the fact that the two of us walking to Hogsmeade together might look suspicious, Severus had made his way down to the village a whole hour before me last time.

"No, we're taking the Floo. It will be much quicker. I connected my fireplace to the one in the Shrieking Shack."

"Don't you need a permit or something to do that? Won't you get in trouble with the Ministry?"

Severus scoffed. "Maybe fifteen years ago during the height of the Dark Lord's power, but no one cares now. Anyway, I have an old acquaintance in the Department of Magical Transportation, so he would cover me in the unlikely event anything arose. I'll go first, shall I?"

Severus threw a handful of Floo powder into the fire, then stepped inside the green flames. After stating clearly, "The Shrieking Shack," he vanished in a dizzying swirl of lime fire and black cloak. Since the fireplace didn't spit him out or anything, I assumed it was safe and followed suit. I was momentarily sightless as I went from the bright green light into the almost complete darkness of the Shack. Severus caught me as I stumbled blindly out onto the dusty floor. In an instant he had his wand lit dimly so we could see our surroundings. Very little had changed since our last visit to the Shack the night of our first kiss. There might have been a few more rats' nests tucked away in the corners, but I had really been too distracted last time to take a complete inventory.

"Now," Severus said once I had my bearings again, "I thought that since we had some difficulty last week, we should try Side-Along-Apparation down to the bottom of the hill. I will be completely controlling the spell, and you will come with me as a sort of passenger. I thought maybe if you knew what the sensation of Apparation was like, then it might help you with the spell."

I nodded, knowing that whatever he thought was probably the best since I had no idea what I was doing.

"If you're ready, then just take my arm," Severus said, shaking his cloak back over his shoulder. I reached out and took hold of his left forearm, but Severus abruptly jerked it away from me.

"What's the matter? Is your arm hurt?" I asked

"Oh… it's nothing. You might just want to hold on higher up," Severus said, looking slightly unnerved for a moment, but offered his arm once more. Wondering what that was about, I took hold of his bicep instead.

"Holding on tightly? Good. After three now," Severus said. On the count of three, I felt Severus' arm pull away from me once more, but this time my whole body followed as well. My vision went pitch black, and every piece of me felt unbearably squeezed as though someone was trying to force me down the drain of my bathroom sink. Then, as soon as it had happened, the pressure vanished. I found myself blinded once more, this time with the bright shock of noon sunshine. I gulped down breaths of fresh forest air and rubbed at my ears which were buzzing as though full of bees.

"Are you alright?" Severus asked, putting his arm around me.

"Maybe…" I replied, honestly not sure.

"You do get used to it," he said.

"God, I hope so."

Severus smiled then backed off to give me some breathing room. As he paced slowly back and forth, I took mental inventory of all of my extremities and was actually surprised they were all there.

After giving me a minute, Severus asked, "Are you ready to try for yourself again?"

I nodded determinedly. "Yes. As horrible as that feels, it still beats an eight hour flight in an airplane packed with cranky Muggles."

With that, Severus repeated his instructions from last week. I was to focus completely on where I wanted to go and put the force of my will behind it. Then, I was to step forward and turn with the utmost purpose into the space I wished to occupy, which for the moment was supposed to be the top of the hill just outside the Shack.

I tried and I tried and I tried but to no avail. The only way I was getting closer to the Shack was by each single footstep forward I took as I tried to turn and Disapparate. Severus was silent during my efforts, watching me with crossed arms and narrowed eyes, which I knew only meant that he was concentrating but still made me feel like I was disappointing him.

After a few more failed attempts, I was starting to get tired and sore from constantly falling over after my more zealous tries. No matter how Severus tried to coach me, I simply could not copy that feeling of purposeful compression I had felt when Apparating beside him.

"I just don't understand," Severus finally said as he shook his head slightly. "You've had no problems at all with everything else I've been teaching you. I know it's probably ridiculous to ask, but do you have _any_ idea why you wouldn't want to travel like this?"

"No," I said, "Except, of course, that I wouldn't want to do any traveling that took me away from you." I had meant this as sort of a flirtatious joke since I was pretty much fed up with practicing. I was more than ready to just go back to the castle with him and spend a few hours relaxing in his arms while nursing my wounded pride with a hot cup of cocoa.

However, Severus raised an eyebrow and said simply, "Fine, then. Follow me."

He Disapparated.

I looked wildly around me and up at the hillside where he had always appeared before, but he was nowhere that I could see. _What the hell?_ I thought and tapped a foot impatiently. How was I supposed to follow him when I didn't know where he had gone and couldn't Apparate there even if I did?

Long minutes passed, and Severus didn't return. I was starting to feel lonely and vulnerable out here all alone. Now more than ever I wanted to be in his safe, warm parlour, maybe just lying next to him on the couch as he read aloud to me like he had the night before. Finally realizing I could be out here for hours before Severus decided I had "tried" long enough, I closed my eyes and forced myself to focus.

Since my power had returned, whenever I was around Severus or another extremely powerful wizard like Professor Dumbledore, I could sense their signature magic when they were near me. I had become so used to feeling Severus' magic that it was now as familiar to me as the sound of his voice or the scent of his cologne. Though it had been probably over ten minutes since Severus Disapparated, I could still feel a trace of his magic left in the air. I held out my hands and gathered the faint vapours of his magic to me. I could feel them between my palms like the warmth of cupping a single lit match. While concentrating on how his magic felt, I let the desire to be with him fill me up, which wasn't exactly difficult. Finally, when I thought I would flip out if I didn't see him instantly, I cast my thoughts of him and the remaining trace of his magic out in front of me and took a confident step forward.

I was so surprised when my foot did not immediately touch the ground that, by the time I registered the familiar compressed feeling of the Apparation spell, it was already over. Instead I felt warm, strong arms catch me as my magical sixth sense was once more flooded with the intoxicating presence of Severus.

"You did it!" he exclaimed and pulled me to him.

"Of course I did!" I said, turning my face away peevishly as he tried to kiss me. I playfully smacked him on the shoulder. "And just how long were you planning on leaving me there alone?"

"I wasn't 'planning' on anything. I knew you would figure it out."

Severus' guileless faith in me melted the little bit of half-hearted resentment I had been harbouring, and I let him kiss me. Then I looked around to see where we were. We appeared to be on a dreary, wasted heath with nothing but endless grass and hedges in sight.

"Where are we?" I asked.

"A few dozen leagues from Hogwarts. I just went somewhere random," Severus replied. "Do you think you can take us back now?"

I took a deep breath. "If you guide me, I think I can manage it." Severus took hold of my arm this time while I pulled all of my thoughts together to focus on the Shrieking Shack. I felt Severus' magic nudge me in an intangible direction into which I stepped, pulling Severus after me. When I opened my eyes (I was finding I had a subconscious habit of squeezing them shut as though my eyeballs might fall out), I saw that we were back in the dusty gloom of the Shrieking Shack.

Pretty much worn out from all of the previous failed attempts and now two Apparations in a row, I convinced Severus to allow us to return to the castle. Once we were back, I saw that some sort of prescience had summoned down a tray laden with cookies, biscuits, and two pots of tea and hot chocolate. I immediately raided the platter then collapsed on the couch with a cup of cocoa and two cookies in both my free hand and mouth. I justified the splurge by telling myself I needed sugar to replenish all of my spent energy. Of course the evening sugar rush just left me even more crashed afterwards than before, so I went to bed extra early and slept like a bear in hibernation.

When I woke up the next morning, the sun had just risen. I glanced at my watch and saw that I had been twenty-five for three whole hours already. As soon as he saw I was awake, Caligula made it clear he didn't care _what_ day it was, I was technically conscious so I must feed him immediately. With one last enormous stretch, I stood, my eyes only half open, to serve my master The Cat. After Caligula was happy with his face suffocatingly deep in a bowl of Kitty Kibbles, I flopped back into bed; just because I had woken up didn't mean that I was done sleeping.

When I finally awoke for real several hours later, I had already missed breakfast in the Great Hall, which was, in all honesty, a pretty common problem of mine on weekends. I therefore ordered a plate of pancakes from the kitchens. When they arrived, I was charmed to see that a pink candle had been stuck in the middle and "Happy Birthday, Love Pinky!" had been written in whipped cream. I smiled as I licked the whipped-creamed end of the candle, thinking house-elves were so much more amazing than they ever got credit for.

After eating, and probably gaining a few pounds from the whipped cream alone, I showered and took extra time getting dressed. I knew there was no real reason for it, but I wanted to look nice on my birthday. As I magically dried my hair, I was hit with the sudden lonely feeling of knowing that _this_ day is special but being unable to really share that feeling with anyone else. But what did that matter really when I had Severus practically as my fiancé? I made a face in the mirror as I brushed out the last few snarls. As every single day passed, I wondered just _when_ Severus was going to ask me to marry him. I mean, that's what he wanted too, right?

When I was finally all put together, I flounced into the fireplace and down to Severus' room. However, when I arrived, it was apparent he wasn't there since the entire place was completely dark. I hadn't thought to ask him last night if he had any specific plans today, so I decided to see if he was in his office. This, of course, meant that I had to take the Floo back _up_ to my own room then walk back _down_ to the dungeons to avoid the freak chance of a random Slytherin walking by Severus' quarters just as I was leaving them.

The dungeon passageway was beyond frigid, and I wondered if it ever reached above freezing at any point in the year at all. Severus' office door was closed, but I could see a light shining beneath it. I knocked on the door and waited for him to tell me to enter. It was a good thing I had done this instead of simply rushing in because when I opened the door, I was greeted with the sight of Severus sitting at his desk reading while Fred and George Weasley sat at separate school-desks in front of him, writing lines.

All three faces glanced up at me as I stepped through the doorway. The sight of the two boys momentarily paralyzed me so that I didn't even enter the room fully and was still standing with my hand on the door latch. I realized I had to instantly come up with an excuse as to why I would be in _Professor_ Snape's office on a Sunday morning.

Fortunately, Severus was much quicker on the uptake than I was, for he said immediately, "Thank you for coming down so quickly, Mistress Asphodel. I have some books I want you to go find for me in the library. If you will wait a moment, I shall write the titles down for you." Severus picked up a quill and began to write purposefully. His speaking had brought me back to reality, so I finally stepped all the way into the office and shut the door to keep out the howling draught.

I moved a little closer to Severus' desk and waited, wondering what exactly he was writing and if he really expected me to go to the library for him. As I stood there rocking back and forth on my heels, I glanced at the Weasley twins. George had not interrupted his own writing of lines but had, for some reason, moved his left hand up to rest on his forehead as though to block Severus and me from view. Fred had stopped writing and was staring openly at me as his face went through an interesting process of colour saturation from pale pink to bright red. I raised my eyebrows at him and meaningfully inclined my head toward his parchment.

However, I had not been quick enough for Severus commented coolly without even looking up, "I suggest you resume your punishment, Mr. Weasley. Those thousand lines will not write themselves." Fred jumped at this and hurriedly put quill to paper once more. I bit my cheek to stop myself from saying that if he had assigned less lines, we might have more time together later. Unfortunately, Severus was never one to scrimp on punishment, especially when it involved the younger Weasley boys.

Severus finished his own writing, folded the paper in half, then handed it to me. "At your earliest convenience, Mistress Asphodel," Severus said to dismiss me. I nodded, and forced myself to leave the room at a normal pace when I really wanted to just bolt out of that awkward situation.

Once outside the office, I sagged against the wall then opened the paper Severus had handed me. It said:

_I will most likely be with these two for a few hours more. I caught them out of bed again several nights ago, so I had no choice but to give them detention. Would you come down to my rooms tonight at seven? I want to discuss Apparation more with you._

Well, there went any possibility of having a fun day with Severus. I folded the paper back up placed it carefully in my pocket. At least the weather wasn't against me today. Outside it was even warmer than yesterday, and the noon sun had already melted all of the snow left over from the blizzard. Of course, that just made everything even more muddy, but a little mud never really bothered me, being so accustomed to it through Herbology.

I returned to my rooms and pulled on an old pair of pants and knee-high boots. I figured it might be fun to walk down to Hogsmeade and get something to eat at the Three Broomsticks. Maybe Lavinia and her Henry would be there, and I could spy on them. Though it was warm enough out that I desperately wanted to leave some windows open to air out the winter stuffiness of my rooms, I knew I couldn't trust Caligula to stay put without me to supervise him. I couldn't even appease him with promises of leftovers from Hogsmeade because he was already growing seemingly fatter day by day as it was. I finally just left after promising him we would play for a good long while before I went down to see Severus at seven. Caligula wouldn't even have to know he was exercising.

With my wand in my pocket in case I was ambushed by a band of roving pirate-ninjas on my way down to Hogsmeade, I gratefully left the dark castle behind me. Since no students were allowed in Hogsmeade this weekend, the walk down to the village was a solitary one, which I enjoyed. I took the time to gather and rearrange my thoughts while listening to the sharp twittering of birds. Tough shoots of magic-hardened crocuses and daffodils had defied the last of winter's siege and dotted the areas along the path the trees and underbrush had not claimed.

I first went to the post office to mail the letter I had written my mom the other day. Since Severus and I had ended up taking the Floo yesterday, I didn't have a chance then. Fortunately, the post office was open a few hours in the afternoon on Sunday for people like me who found it hard to get down to the village during the week.

After that I walked through the square to the Three Broomsticks. Even though I had just eaten breakfast a while ago, the fresh air had reawakened my appetite. I peeked discreetly through the door, but could see no sign of Lavinia or Henry. Well, so much for that idea. I had been really hoping to catch them doing something lovey-dovey so I could tease Lavinia about it later. Since there was no one at the tavern I knew, and I found eating alone to be really depressing, I indulged in one small mead then left.

I spent the rest of the afternoon wandering aimlessly through the village, stopping in the few shops that were open, thinking maybe I could find myself something I really liked for a birthday treat. My mom sent me pocket money each month since I didn't earn anything in my apprenticeship beyond the priceless acquisition of knowledge. I had been really good with the money so far, deciding to save it up as an emergency fund instead of squandering it away, but I figured buying one small thing wouldn't hurt. However, I found I had developed such a habit of _not_ shopping that I couldn't find anything spectacular enough to make me want to break it. At least window shopping helped to pass a good chunk of the time I had to wait until seeing Severus in the evening.

When the sun was half hidden by the sweeping horizon, wrapping the distant school and grounds in a warm blanket of peachy rose light, I decided I should head back. I turned to simply walk back down the High Street to the castle path, but then stopped suddenly. I realized I should at least _try_ to attempt to Apparate to the castle gates. I didn't know exactly what Severus wanted to talk about in a little bit, but he would probably expect me to have been practicing since I was outside of the castle.

I discreetly ducked into a side alley, then looked both ways a few times to make sure no one was watching. If I ended up failing and slipping in the mud, I didn't want to do it in full view of half of the village. I closed my eyes, tried to focus all of my attention on reaching the castle gates, then turned on the spot. I don't know why I doubted myself so much, but I really hadn't expected it to work. So when I suddenly found myself pressed from all possible angles like a stuffed sausage, I nearly lost the thread of concentration from shock; who knows where I would have ended up if that had happened…

But all went well, and I instantly popped from the void into the space right in front of the towering Hogwarts gates. Severus had said he was confident that if I could just do it _once,_ then I would have no more trouble. Apparently he knew what he was talking about. Though I could do it now, I still did not particularly like Apparation. For one, it still made my ears tingle horribly for a few minutes afterwards. Also, having grown up without magic for most of my life, if felt sort of like _cheating, _which I know must sound totally ridiculous.

I shrugged and sighed before trekking back up the hill to the castle. I don't know why I couldn't just be _happy_ that I learned these things so easily! It took students sometimes months before they managed to even splinch themselves. Besides, the quicker I learned things from Severus, the more time would be left for _fun_.Heh heh.

I had already been slightly hungry when I went down to Hogsmeade, so by now I was ravenous. I went straight into the Great Hall where dinner had just started and took a seat. For some reason, I wasn't surprised Severus was absent, though I saw both George and Fred Weasley, rubbing their cramped wrists slightly, meaning their detentions had concluded. It just always seemed to happen that whenever I wanted to just _see _Severus, he was never at the meal I was. Of course that was probably for the best. Just because months had now passed since we had become involved with each other, it did not mean that being around him in public was any less nerve-wracking. Lavinia was also missing from dinner, and I felt incredibly jealous at the thought of her possibly shacked up with Henry at the moment. I stabbed at my fish and shovelled rice pilaf into my mouth, annoyed that my birthday was almost over and practically nothing special had happened.

I still had a little time after dinner, so I ran up to my rooms to take a quick bath to rinse off all of the sweat and mud from my earlier wanderings. Caligula scratched incessantly on the bathroom door while I soaked and meowed like someone was trying to kill him. Even though I knew he was a complete ham, I still felt bad about leaving him alone so much. Getting another cat was out of the question; Caligula would probably just disembowel it for entering his territory. Maybe I should have been bringing him down to Severus' room like he had offered. Maybe if I _ever_ started to spend the night down there, then I would.

Finally it was a few minutes before seven. I ran a brush through my hair one more time, wondering what exactly Severus wanted to talk about. Maybe he just wanted to ask if I felt comfortable with Apparation yet. He'd probably be really pleased, then, to hear that I had already Apparated today by myself.

I threw a pinch of Floo powder into the cracking fire, stepped inside, then stated clearly, "Professor Severus Snape's room." I caught the quickest glance of Caligula pouting on the couch before I was whisked away past several other indistinguishable rooms, then finally deposited on the carpet in Severus' parlour.

For the briefest instant I thought somehow I had misspoke and ended up somewhere else. Normally when I came down, the contrast of the bright green fire to the romantic dimness of Severus' rooms was so great that it took a few eye blinks until I could see clearly in front of me. Now, for the first time, the parlour seemed almost brighter than the light I had just emerged from. All around the room and up in the cavernous reaches of the ceiling, Severus had floated hundreds of magical white candles. Looking upwards it was like seeing the stars in the night sky. Around me the shadowed details of the rooms were for once completely visible. For instance, I could see the upholstery was actually appearing as its true forest-green instead of the normal almost black. All the heavy curtains hanging from the windows were also pulled back, the first time I had ever seen them so. The glass scintillated with the light of the candles and seemingly doubled their number.

Severus had apparently been waiting for me by the mantle for he was right beside me when I arrived. "What's all this?" I asked, turning to him.

Severus raised an eyebrow. "Forgive _me_, but I was under the impression that it was your birthday," he replied with amused sarcasm.

I placed a hand over my mouth to keep myself from squealing with surprised joy as I looked around once more at all of the beautiful lights. Severus leaned an elbow against the mantle and watched me silently with his head rested on his fist.

After a moment I was able to internally compose myself, so I asked, "How did you know?"

"Certainly with no help from you," he said coolly, giving me one of his of stern looks that would have terrified his students.

"Well, you've never told me _yours_ either," I replied huffily, "So I had no chance to naturally bring the subject up. But you still haven't answered my question."

Severus sighed and placed an arm around me to bring me away from the hot fire. "Being your supervisor, I have access to your file. When I recognized you your first morning here, I immediately looked at it again to check your birthday, in a disturbingly obsessive state of mind, I must admit, to reaffirm that you weren't criminally younger than me."

I smiled as Severus deposited me on the couch. He leaned over and took my chin between his fingers to kiss me. "I have something for you," he whispered.

Immediately my heart soared. I mean, who _doesn't _like presents, but then felt that little twinge of guilt that had kept me from mentioning it was my birthday in the first place.

"You really shouldn't have," I said. "You've already done so much for me; I don't need anything else."

Severus straightened and brushed my hair back from my face. "That's the point of presents: to give you something you want but don't _need._" With that, he kissed me once more then walked across the room to his desk. I turned to watch him.

"So when _is _your birthday?" I asked, dropping my chin onto my crossed arms resting on the back of the couch.

"January ninth," he replied as he opened a drawer.

"What?" I gasped. "You mean… I missed it? Why didn't you tell me?"

Severus pulled out a small wrapped package then came back over. "'I had no chance to naturally bring the subject up,'" he recited back, split infinitives and everything, and ran a hand playfully over my hair as he walked past me.

"But," I said, turning back around to the front of the room to follow him with my eyes, "I didn't get to do anything for you. I feel terrible…"

Severus dropped on the couch beside me and said, "Then you can fully appreciate the agony I would have gone through if I had not taken the initiative and used my privileged information source to find out your birthday for myself. You really are cruel, Avrille, for risking putting me through that!" His twisted logic distracted me just long enough. He smiled once more then deposited the present on my lap.

It was relatively small, about the size of a hardcover book, and deceptively heavy for its thinness. If not for the curved edges and plush give under the golden paper, I would have thought it to be a book. As it was, I had no guesses as to the contents. Severus wrapped an arm around my waist and rested his temple against mine as I carefully undid the ribbon.

"I really hope you didn't spend too much…" I said as I put the ribbon aside.

"Don't worry, I didn't spend anything," Severus replied mysteriously. I furrowed my brow, but he refused to give me any facial clues. I shrugged and slid a fingernail under the lightly glued seam to separate the paper without ripping it. Pulling apart the golden sheets, I uncovered a plain, black velvet box. Holding the bottom firmly in one hand, I slowly undid the clasp on the front and lifted the lid.

On a sumptuous black cushion shone dazzling sparkles of green and white as the light of the magical candles above reflected off of a stunning silvery bejewelled choker.

Before I could even really take it in, Severus said, "I've had it insured with Gringotts, so promise me you'll actually wear it sometime."

"Oh my God. You mean… it's _real?"_ I dropped the box onto my lap in my surprise.

"Of course it's real," Severus replied, sounding just a little bit affronted. "Platinum with emeralds and diamonds." He listed them like they were nothing more than ingredients for Potions class.

I stared down at the necklace, an absolute fortune laying between my palms. At first glance, I had just noticed how incredibly _beautiful _it was, but now I really took in the details. It was made up of a series of coin-sized links, each one containing a round emerald the size of my thumbnail wreathed with a circular row of small diamonds. The setting of the stones was the silvery platinum, intricately embossed with a motif of ivy leaves. The thing must have cost more than my parents' house in Nova Scotia. How exactly could Severus have paid _nothing_ for it?

As romantic thoughts of a masked and caped Severus sweeping undetected into a jewellery store and gliding lithely between theft-detection beams began to swirl through my imagination, he answered the unasked question with a completely logical statement: "It was my mother's."

I traced the outside of the necklace on its black velvet cushion, not wanting to touch the stones in case I got fingerprints on them. I finally asked, "What was her name?"

"Charlotte."

My vision of the necklace blurred into green and silver stars as my eyes filled with tears. Though I had never seen her, and Severus barely ever spoke of her, I just knew she had been beautiful. In my mind I imagined the jewels gracing the swanlike neck of a tall, willowy woman with long, flowing black hair like Lavinia's and Severus' melancholic eyes. I knew that if there was ever a time to find out anything about his mother, then it was now.

"How old were you when she died?" I asked.

"Twenty-one." He paused as if not sure whether or not he wanted to talk about it, but then continued, "She was only forty-two herself. Both of her parents died young as well, in a train accident. My mother was never very strong, and she just suddenly collapsed one day. The Healer was called and said it was an incredibly damaging stroke. The Healer contacted me, and I came home immediately. However, no spell or medicine could improve my mother's condition. She never regained consciousness and died three days later."

I shifted the necklace box and took Severus' hand in mine. He gave me a tight smile, then gestured to the box. "My mother received that from hers when she graduated Hogwarts. It had been in the family for several generations and is Goblin-wrought, I believe. Since my mother never had a daughter, she gave it to me for safe keeping, to do with as I pleased."

I shook my head and looked at the shimmering jewels before me, worth far more, I knew, in sentimental value than money could ever come close to. I didn't feel like I deserved such a gift, but I knew trying to make a polite refusal would be insulting to Severus. He had weighed what it meant to him and decided that I was to have it. Severus did not make mistakes.

The fact that Severus _had _given it to me raised my hopes even a little higher than before. He obviously would never have imparted such a priceless gift on just some girl he was having a fling with. Even though he had not yet said the words aloud, I knew now that Severus wanted to be with me forever. I just wished so much I could have met the woman who had owned this before me. I knew she must have been extraordinary.

"Come. I want to see how it looks on you," Severus said suddenly. He took the necklace from me, snapped the case closed, and stood up. He held out his free hand to me, then led me over to the other side of the room where there was a large mirror. Severus stood behind me, placing the box so it floated at waist height, then carefully removed the necklace.

"Lift up your hair," he instructed quietly. I gathered my loose hair in my hands, raising it up so my neck was bare. Threading his hands in the space between my lifted arms and my neck, Severus "lightly" rested the necklace against my throat. I say this because that many emeralds and diamonds seriously add up in weight. It was like he had just draped a solid lead chain on me. Now I knew why rich women always walked around with their chins up and their chests lifted toward the ceiling; if they didn't counter-balance the weight of their jewellery, they'd fall over.

I shivered slightly at the coldness of the metal and from Severus' fingers moving gently and deftly against my skin as he fastened the necklace together. I smiled as I watched him in the mirror, his grey eyes squinted in concentration as though a securing a necklace clasp correctly was advanced engineering. I felt him pull his hands away and saw him look up at our reflection in the mirror. He wrapped his arms around my stomach and held me tight.

"Perfection," he whispered. I turned my face so I could kiss him, then rested my forehead on his chin.

"Thank you," I said simply. After a little while of standing together, I asked, "Can I still keep it down here? It's not that I don't trust the students, but I want it to be extra safe. I figure that the odds of someone taking anything from _your_ room are astronomical."

Severus released me, and I saw him squinting again as he unfastened the necklace once more.

"If you wish," he said. "I have actually been keeping it locked in a safe until now, so I can put it back there for you." I caught the necklace once it was loosed so it didn't fall onto the floor.

"You _will_ wear it sometime, won't you? It's such a shame to just leave it locked up."

"Sure, if there's ever an occasion fancy enough for it," I said as I carefully replaced the necklace on its cushion and closed the lid on the case. I handed the case to Severus. "I'll have to buy a gown or something to match. I don't have anything extravagant enough that it would go well with."

"I think it would go well with nothing at all…" he said, then shut his mouth quickly as a pale pink glow spread across his cheeks. He abruptly turned and strode purposefully to the other side of the room. I had to cover my mouth to keep from laughing. I had never seen Severus blush, and that was _certainly_ the most sexual comment I had ever heard him say before. It was interesting the sort of things that would slip out of his mouth when he was feeling relaxed. I walked slowly after him to give him a moment to compose himself.

I caught up as he was levitating some books out of their place on a bookcase. I could see that behind where they had stood was a smooth sheet of metal set into the stone. It had no handle or combination lock, and there seemed to be no way to open it. Severus set the jewellery case on top of the floating books and took out his wand. He placed the fingertips of his free hand against the safe door and pointed his wand at it.

He looked over his shoulder at me and said, "I invented the locking spell on this, so no one else should be able to open it. I'll teach it to you in a minute so you can use the safe for whatever else you want."

He stared at the door for a moment then flicked his wand once sharply. As he pulled his fingers away from the metal, it snapped open to reveal a dark, cavernous space that smelled cool and earthy. Severus placed the case inside on top of a few file folders of papers then closed the safe shut once more. He had me take out my wand then slowly explained the locking spell to me. Because I was already so used to Severus' magic, it was not difficult for me to figure out. After a few tries, I managed to lock it again securely. Severus replaced the books so that the space looked completely indistinguishable from all of the other bookcases once more.

Severus led me back over to the couch where we sat together in front of the fire. "I'm glad you like it," he said. "I honestly didn't know what I would have done with it otherwise. I could never bear to sell it." He paused and stared pensively into the flames.

After a while he said, "I wish you could have met her."

"Do you… think she would have liked me?" I asked hesitantly.

He took my face between his hands then said, "She would have _loved_ you." He kissed me gently. "She always wanted a daughter but got stuck with me instead," he said smiling.

"Don't say that. I'm sure she loved you more than anything in the world." I brushed back a few strands of his hair that were tickling my cheek.

"I know," Severus replied then was silent for a while again. I wished it was possible to do Legilimency on him so I could see all of the things in his mind that he found too difficult to put into words. As he thought, I rested my chin on his shoulder and traced with a finger the outline of his hand that was resting on his knee.

"She was the only family I had…" Severus said quietly to himself, his lips pressed against his fist, his elbow digging into the armrest of the couch.

I reached over and turned Severus' face back toward me. I then slid my arms under his and squeezed him tightly. Severus buried his face in my neck, and I slowly ran my fingers through his hair.

Pressing my lips against his ear I murmured, "You never have to be alone again. I'll be your family now."


	28. Chapter Twenty Eight: SEVERUS

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

_Severus_

A week after Avrille's birthday was the start of Easter holiday. Many more students would be staying behind at school than during Christmas break since now the parents thought the school to be completely safe once more. Also, most of the older students were studying for their quickly approaching exams. They would be using their two "free" weeks to toil through the reams of extra work that my fellow professors and I had assigned to cover all of the topics on which they would soon be tested. For myself I found the spring holiday to be a mixed blessing. I was all caught up on my own work and would therefore have ample amounts of free time to spend with Avrille. On the other hand, I had no idea how exactly to spend that time with her.

Over the past couple months, most of our time alone was spent exploring Avrille's newly reacquired powers; teaching her how to control them if they were too wild, and therefore dangerous, or figuring out how to create the desired effect if a simple spell didn't work for her. Avrille's powers were so great and complicated that even I had a difficult time trying to guide her through them. It was as if the magic I was used to and that I taught to students was like words on a page whereas Avrille's magic operated in all three dimensions.

Surprisingly it was the relatively simple spells that gave her the most trouble. Advanced magic, like Conjuring and Transmuting, came to her as almost second nature. It was the basics of witchcraft like Levitation and Summoning where we had to work together to find a way for her to do them without grossly exaggerating the spell by accident. For example, once when we were in the forest, I had asked Avrille to try to levitate a small stone off of the ground. Not only had she levitated the stone, but had also sent aloft an ancient pine tree behind it, the tree's roots groaning as they struggled to keep a hold on the ground. Avrille, of course, immediately cut the spell sending the tree crashing back into its hole. Because of her caring for all living things, she had then refused to practise more until she had run a thorough magical diagnostic to ensure the tree had not been harmed.

It was now Easter Sunday, and the holiday break had officially begun. I had already spent the past few days signing out students who had returned home the previous morning on the train. Avrille and I had spent a few hours after dinner in one of the empty dungeon galleries near my own rooms practising advanced defensive spells. Since learning about the despicable actions of Lucius earlier in the year, I was adamant Avrille would not be so defenceless the next time someone tried to take advantage of her.

We had found early on in her magic lessons that the dungeons made for an ideal practise space. Though I insisted I didn't mind and could repair everything, Avrille was quite hesitant to keep destroying the possessions in my parlour, so we had moved into this space instead. Since the Slytherin dormitories and my classrooms were in another part of the dungeons entirely, this half of the space under the castle was always deserted. Further along the same corridor as my own rooms was the spacious gallery we were currently occupying. It was nothing more than a bare stone room with utilitarian lights and towering bare windows that showed the lake. However, the room had a good, solid oak door and thick walls that were soundproof and able to withstand the vicious, though mostly accidental, magical onslaughts of my most beloved treasure.

Avrille had just finished producing the advanced Shielding Charm I had taught her when I thought I might have her try to conjure a Patronus. Though it was highly unlikely Avrille would ever encounter a Dementor, I thought it would certainly not hurt for her to know the spell since it could also be used for communication with others. It was growing quite late, but I figured I could at least give her a basic idea of the spell, and we could continue working on it through the week if she found the concept hard to grasp at first.

"The most fundamental part of the Patronus Charm," I said, "is that it is fuelled by your own focus on a strong, happy memory. Try to think of a time when you were at your most joyful and let the sensation flow through you. This _is_ one of those spells that requires an incantation, at least until you are so familiar with your Patronus that you can produce it at will. The spell is: _Expecto patronum,_ and I'm sure simply thinking it will be enough for you."

I watched Avrille as she mouthed the words of the spell a few times to herself to entrench them in her memory.

"So, I simply think of something happy then invoke the spell?" she asked.

"Simply that," I said as I pulled out my own wand. With a single flick, I summoned my own Patronus, which took the shape of a large panther, and had it lope once gracefully around Avrille before setting it to stand motionless beside her.

"A beginner's Patronus will first appear as a misty light, though a true Patronus takes the form of an animal unique to the one who produces it. Just as how no two witches or wizards are the same, no Patronus is exactly alike another, making the spell a very useful one to identify yourself with."

Avrille nodded then leaned over to put a hand out to the panther, which regarded her curiously. She looked up at me and said, "I knew you were a cat person…" before righting herself and raising her wand.

"Now, if you're ready, try to think of a powerful memory—" I began but was stunned into silence as a blinding silver light erupted from Avrille's wand tip. The light bubbled and reformed itself so that I found myself being stared down by a shape so enormous it filled three-quarters of the cavernous room; I actually stumbled backwards a few steps from pure shock and almost fell over. After opening its massive jaws and emitting a silent roar, the Patronus circled the gallery in a rush of gleaming sparks before charging back into Avrille's wand. She stared at me for a moment, her hair cascading back over her shoulders after being whipped around from the force of the spell.

"Wow," she stated.

"I couldn't have put it better myself," I said weakly, then passed a hand over my eyes to gather my wits before walking back over to Avrille. My own Patronus, which had flattened itself to the ground at the initial light, bounded gratefully across the flagstones to me as I recalled it back into my wand.

Avrille held her own wand up at eyelevel as though trying to look into the tip like a telescope. "What exactly _was_ that?" she asked.

I took a deep breath, unable to believe my own words as I uttered them, "Unless I'm experiencing mass hallucinations, that was a Chinese Fireball dragon."

"Wow," Avrille said again. "Is it common for someone to have a dragon for a Patronus?"

I shook my head. "I have never heard of anyone having a Patronus so large. I think it safe to say that the extent of your powers will be clearly evident if you ever showed that to someone. Just out of curiosity, what exact memory were you thinking about?"

Avrille placed a few fingers over her mouth. "Oh… I kind of forgot to think of a specific one. I suppose I was just happy enough being here with you. Was it strong enough, anyway, do you think?"

I closed my eyes slowly and forced myself to remain calm. She was able to produce _that _without even consciously _trying_ to. "Yes, I should think that would suffice. I wouldn't be surprised if you held all of the Dementors in Azkaban at bay with that beast."

Avrille beamed happily. "Should I try again?" she offered and started to raise her wand.

"No!" I exclaimed and put up a hand to stop her. I then cleared my throat and tried to sound less desperate. "Rather, I think it's safe to assume you have that spell down pat." Though obviously I had known the apparition was simply a Patronus, being sized up by a pair of silvery eyes each as large as my office desk had nevertheless been slightly terrifying.

It was nearing midnight, and I didn't think I could handle any more after that dragon, so Avrille and I retired to my rooms to unwind. We sat on the sofa together, and Avrille asked me to read a little from the book I had started the other night. Even though jumping into the middle she would have no idea what the plot was, she insisted that the sound of my voice relaxed her.

I reached forward to grab the book off of the coffee table. While I flipped through the pages with my right hand to find my place, Avrille lightly ran a fingertip down my left arm. Preoccupied with the book, my mind was too late in preventing my arm from flinching instinctively when she brushed against the inside of my forearm. It was only around Avrille that I felt such a self-conscious shame of the area which I knew bore the Dark Mark. This was already the second time in only a couple of weeks I had reacted to her touching that spot, and I knew I would be deluding myself to hope Avrille hadn't noticed.

Indeed, she said immediately, "Why do you do that when I touch you there?"

I sighed, tossing the book back onto the table, and rubbed at my forehead. Avrille already knew the worst of it, so a few more details probably wouldn't change how she felt about me. I was still loath to even discuss the subject, though.

"When I swore my allegiance to the Dark Lord and became a Death Eater, I was branded with his sigil here, on my arm," I said, gesturing to the spot. "It's called the Dark Mark, and all Death Eaters have one. It was both a way to reveal ourselves to each other and for the Dark Lord to summon us instantly to his side. It began fading the day the Dark Lord fell and, though now it's completely invisible, it is still there and will remain a part of me until I die. I suppose I just didn't want something so evil to touch you…"

Avrille took my arm in both of her hands, and I did not pull away this time. She slowly undid the buttons on my cuff and pushed my sleeve up. With one hand around my wrist and the other supporting my arm near my elbow, Avrille stared at the innocuous-looking area of skin. Then she removed her left hand from my elbow and began running her fingertips over my forearm slowly as though stroking the back of her cat. My skin felt warm and tingled where she brushed against me. After a few more passes with her fingers, Avrille held my arm fast again and stared at it for another minute. Finally she sighed and shook her head.

"It's no good. I can't remove it from you…" she said sadly. I had suspected she was trying to do something like that.

"No, you wouldn't be able to. The Dark Mark is created by the most evil and depraved magic. You are too pure to understand it enough to alter it." I tried to pull my arm gently away to roll down my sleeve once more, but Avrille refused to let go.

"Does it bother you?" she asked quietly.

"Physically, no, but in other respects… I suppose it does. It's hard to bear a permanent reminder of a mistake you committed a long time ago."

Avrille lifted my forearm toward her and gently kissed it. Again, it was my instinct to pull away from her to keep her lips from touching something so cursed, but I knew it was her way of expressing that she didn't care about it. Her kisses were soothing, but were also rapidly stirring feelings that effectively distracted me from worrying about what exact part of me her mouth was touching. As if reading my thoughts and wanting to make things even more uncomfortable for me, Avrille climbed on to my lap and began kissing my lips with a tenderness that was at complete odds with the way she was dragging her fingernails down my chest.

Relieved that talk about my Dark Mark seemed completely finished, I laced the fingers of one hand through Avrille's hair, forcing her lips to press harder against mine. Avrille deflected my attempt for control by coquettishly pulling back and turning her face slightly away from me. Refusing to be denied, I brushed my lips across the silken skin of her neck instead. I slid my hand down so that I was cupping her face gently, yet firm enough to prevent her from pulling further back away from me. Avrille sighed quietly and ran her fingers through my hair sending a shiver down my spine. I turned her face back toward me, and this time Avrille allowed me to fully capture her mouth. Avrille kissed back fiercely and slowly slid her tongue between my lips, parting them. As her tongue touched mine, lust flared up inside of me so hot I was sure that my fingers touching her face must have been burning her.

I let my hand slide ever so slowly from Avrille's waist to her hip. I wanted more than anything to go further but didn't think I had the courage to cross that invisible line. Avrille instantly made the decision for me and, without interrupting her sinful kiss, placed her hand over mine. Though she was wearing a floor-length skirt, the way that Avrille had straddled my lap had gathered it to over her knees. Taking my hand in hers, Avrille guided me to the place where the fabric stopped short. I held my breath as she slid my hand up her skirt slightly so I was touching the warm smoothness of her thigh. Assuming I would know what to do from there, Avrille removed her hand from mine and began to slowly unbutton the top of my shirt.

I knew now that we had come too far. My mind struggled to regain control of my body, which could not fathom why it had to stop. Every part of me that was simply a man wanted to push Avrille back down onto the sofa and peel every last piece of clothing from her exquisite body. Apparently she was thinking along those same lines since she already had my shirt half undone. Somehow I managed to hear through the rushing of blood in my ears the clock on the mantle strike midnight, signalling that it was now Monday morning.

I pulled slightly away from Avrille and placed a finger over her lips.

"It's late. We have to get up early tomorrow," I said.

Avrille momentarily interrupted her undressing of me to playfully bat my hand away.

"No, we don't. Tomorrow is the beginning of school vacation, remember?"

Damn it. I actually _had_ forgotten. Avrille finished unbuttoning my shirt, and my mind scrambled for another excuse to send Avrille back to her own room before I completely lost control.

She wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed me again. Then she pressed her lips against my ear and whispered seductively, "We have _all_ night… And I never gave you a birthday present."

Avrille bit my earlobe, sending my temperature soaring even higher. She slid her hands down my bare chest and stomach to rest for a second on the waistband of my trousers. In sheer panic, I seized her wrists with my hands just as she started to unfasten them. She cried out in surprise and pain. I quickly pulled my hands away and saw to my horror that my fingers had left white marks on her wrists which quickly darkened to an angry red. Avrille stared at my hands, still hovering an inch above where I had grabbed her.

"I… I'm sorry…" she stammered.

"—I think you should go back to your room," I said sharply, cutting her off. The confused and contrite tones in her voice infuriated me, though it was not at her my anger was directed. Right at that moment, I had never hated my father more in my entire life. Because of the fear and doubts he had instilled in me at the time of his death, I had just deeply hurt the person most dear to me in all of the world.

I lowered my hands and started to button up my shirt once more. Avrille slid off of my lap and stood in front of me for a moment, but I forced myself to keep my gaze lowered at what my hands were doing. I allowed my hair to fall forward, effectively blocking her from my view. I saw Avrille's shoes turn and heard her move away to the fireplace. My hands were shaking so badly that I had only managed to get the bottom three buttons fastened when the light in the corner of my eyes flashed green as Avrille stepped into the Floo. But no matter how hard I tried to concentrate on what I was doing, I still heard the quaver in her voice as she stated her destination. With a whoosh of air and ash, she was gone.

I stood and glanced at the fireplace to make sure that Avrille had really left. Seeing that I was indeed alone, I kicked over the table in front of me, then grabbed a near-by antique vase and flung it with all of my might at the wall, shattering with a satisfying crash. I dropped to my knees in front of the hearth, bits of sharp porcelain cutting painfully through the fabric of my trousers, and raked my fingers through my hair. However, none of this made me feel any better; the vase could be instantly repaired, and my shredded knees could be healed just as quickly. As I held my face between tensed, trembling fingers, I realised that for the first time in my life I actually _wanted_ to cry. I wanted a physical release from all of the pain twisting through me, but no matter how hard I desired it, no tears would come after so many years of being locked away.

What must Avrille be thinking right now? To her there would be no logical explanation as to why I had just acted the way I did, and honestly, I couldn't think of such an explanation for myself, either. I had known the instant Avrille had first kissed me months ago that this moment would come eventually, but I had been trying my damnedest avoid thinking about it. And now, because of my refusal to consider the consequences of my actions, I had ended up hurting Avrille, who had been doing what was simply natural.

I sat back against the wall and started to pick the pieces of vase out of my skin, relishing each stabbing pain as a personal punishment. I now had three options left to me: I could break everything off with Avrille, ruining both of our lives; I could reveal all of the details of the Death Wish, which would really accomplish nothing except creating undue embarrassment for me; I could say to hell with it all and just take Avrille into my bed like I had been craving since the first moment I saw her. Only the third option seemed at all plausible.

I siphoned the blood off of the small pile of white fragments in front of me then restored the vase to its rightful form. I held it between my palms and studied the pattern of birds and bamboo leaves distractedly. My great-grandfather had bought the vase in Kyoto over a century ago. I really shouldn't have thrown it. Avrille had remarked on its beauty several times in the past, and I had been toying with the thought of giving it to her as a wedding gift, if that ever became a true possibility.

I stood once more and limped over to my desk; I would heal the tattered skin on my knees before bed, but right now the throbbing pain was something concrete for me to focus on. Sitting down, I popped open the secret drawer in the desk and pulled out a small package. I placed it square in front of me and stared at it with my arms crossed. The package was wrapped in plain brown paper, and laying inside, undisturbed since I put it away months ago, was a diamond ring. I had bought it on a euphoric whim the day after Christmas when I had gone into London to pay my yearly taxes. The night before, Avrille had accepted the shames of my past without question, and I thought I deserved to be allowed a shred of optimistic hope for a change. I believe that it is custom for a man to spend the equivalent of one month's salary on an engagement ring; I had spent a full year's.

Since Avrille and I had only grown closer and more in love with each other, I figured that, if I dared, I would propose to her once school recessed for the summer. That had seemed such a long time away that I was sure I would have figured out an answer to my "problem" by then. After all, I knew that following the wedding was the wedding night and certain things were going to be expected of me. I also knew I could not ask Avrille to be my wife until I was certain I was not still somehow damaged goods.

I shoved the wrapped ring back into the secret drawer and locked it securely. Healing my cuts and repairing my trousers with a vague wave of my wand, I retired to my bedroom where I fell onto the bed on my back and buried my face in my arms. After what had happened tonight, things could not go on as they had been. Although she probably wouldn't ask for one, Avrille would be desperate for an explanation of my actions, and I doubted I could think of one. What man in his right mind would send his love away when she was trying to take his clothes off?

I dressed for bed, made slightly easier by the fact I had never bothered to finish buttoning my shirt, then lay wakeful in the peaceful darkness. I kept replaying over and over in my mind the last few moments of my father's life. Unable to sleep, I restudied the wording of the final curse, but was not able to make any more sense of it than when I had heard it for the first time. It was obvious _how_ the curse would be invoked, but not so clear as to what the actual result would be. Something I was rather certain about was that whatever _it_ was, it seemed to be irrevocably bound to me. It seemed unlikely Avrille would be in any danger. I let these thought circle through my mind for hours.

From the parlour, I heard the clock dimly chime four in the morning.

It _had _been well over ten years, after all… Not to mention that I had never been able to discern anything different about myself after that night. If there had been something there, then _surely_ Dumbledore would have mentioned it, or it would have come up in my yearly magical physical with Madam Pomfrey…

There was just no way of knowing for sure. Though books had been written and research conducted on the phenomenon of the Death Wish, it was all pure conjecture and no solid facts. The magic invoked at the time of death was singular to the one casting it, and no two experiences would be alike. After all, Lily had cast a Death Wish when she sacrificed herself for her son, and it turned out that it was still protecting him to this day; Quirrell had found that out, much to his eternal discomfort. But surely the force of a mother's love was a much stronger and more enduring magic than vengeance…

I rolled out of bed at seven without having slept at all. I needed to see Avrille so badly that my heart ached in my chest. I had to make sure she was all right and not in torturous agony like myself. Unfortunately, those many hours of sleepless pondering had not resulted in any words I could say to her to explain myself. I hoped that a heartfelt apology and pledges of my undying love for her would be enough.

As soon as I had made myself presentable, I walked to the Great Hall for breakfast. When I saw Avrille, already seated and chatting with Lavinia, my mouth went dry, and I almost turned around and left. But, of course, doing something that unusual was not helpful for one trying to act as though one were certainly _not_ having a passionate love affair with one's own apprentice. Avrille met my gaze briefly as I took my seat next to Dumbledore, but there was no sign of the warmth and barely concealed excitement in her eyes as when normally she met my gaze in public. It was as though I were a complete stranger entering the hall, not worthy of her attention, and she turned her focus quickly back to Lavinia.

I found that I had little appetite, the lack of sleep certainly contributing to the problem, though I forced some food down my throat. At the very least, it was something to keep me occupied while I tried to not look at Avrille more than once every thirty seconds. I knew I was being stupidly obvious to anyone who might guess our relationship, but I was being both driven mad and completely relieved by the fact that Avrille looked fresh and rested as though she had just slept the best night of her life.

Since Avrille had started breakfast before me, she finished quickly and left the hall with Lavinia without sparing me even the most passing of glances. I finished my meal as hurriedly as I dared then forced myself to walk calmly from the hall. As soon as I was alone in the stone corridors, however, I quickly picked up my pace to try and see where Avrille had gone. It was my hope that she had parted with Lavinia and returned to her rooms-I knew how much she hated getting up early-so it was to there I went first. I would have never dared to at any other time, but since it was now the spring break and all of the students remaining were either at breakfast or still in bed, I assumed no one would be around to notice that I happened to be walking in the direction of Avrille's quarters.

As it was I saw no one at all except Peeves, who was floating near the stairs and sticking used chewing gum on every other step. He flashed me an obsequious, nervous smile as I passed, as though I really cared what he was doing, and probably happily resumed his mischief making once I turned the corner.

Seeing the corridor was completely empty except for myself, I stopped in front of Avrille's door and tried to compose myself. I had never actually visited her rooms before, just from some old-fashioned notion of mine that it would be dishonourable to enter the private rooms of a lady, but at least I had known where they were. I knocked on the door several times but there was no response. She was probably just not in, since I doubted she would simply not answer the door in case it was me. At least, I sincerely hoped not. The thought that she might consciously avoid me had never crossed my mind, and I wished it had stayed that way.

I thought then perhaps she might come down to my rooms to talk. I quickly returned to the dungeons and spent two hours trying to read but really just watching the fireplace out of the corner of my eye while I distractedly flipped pages. Reconsidering the idea, it did not seem likely she would return here uninvited since I had basically expelled her last night. So, grabbing my school-robes once more, I vowed to wander aimlessly around the castle until I found her and was able to beg her to come talk to me.

Avrille was still not answering her parlour door, and she wasn't in her office, either, so I spent the afternoon checking her usual haunts, like the hothouses and the lakeside. Around three, I finally located her as I walked through the library. She was sitting at a table with a dozen seventh year girls and appeared to be conducting a study session for the N.E.W.T.-level Potions exam. Again, like at breakfast, Avrille met my eyes briefly and dispassionately before returning her attention to the students. Some of the girls looked nervously at me, as though I would dock points for flagrant studying, but I simply walked resolutely in the other direction where I would be able to hide behind some book stacks and watch Avrille until she was free for me to talk with her.

The study session was a long one and didn't end until the lamps had already been lit in the library. Madam Pince gave me a queer look as she walked past me for the fourth time with a book trolley, but I tried to exude the impression I was simply fascinated with the lives of famous wizards whose last names began with the letters H through K.

Finally the seventh years packed up their bags and left for dinner. Avrille stayed behind, pulling her things together slowly as though she knew I was still there. I crept from my hiding place and, checking to make sure there was no one besides the librarian in sight, walked over to stand next to Avrille. She didn't look at me or say anything as I approached and only stopped organizing her notes when I placed my hand discreetly on top of hers.

"Avrille," I said quietly. "Would you please come down to my rooms after dinner?"

Avrille finally looked up at me. She smiled faintly, but her eyes were those of a puppy looking up hopefully at an abusive master. Those wounded eyes ripped my heart into bloodless shreds.

"Of course," she said as she placed all of her things into her bag.

"Thank you," I whispered then virtually fled the library. I couldn't stand to be next to her for one more second, unable to take her in my arms and beg her forgiveness for hurting her.

Again, though I still had little appetite, I forced myself to eat some dinner. It was slightly easier to stomach now that I knew I would soon be talking with Avrille, who was seated just a few places away from me and looking relatively happier than I had seen her this morning. Our eyes met once, and in hers I saw the trace of a warm spark which gave me hope.

After dinner I virtually ran back down to my rooms to wait for Avrille. Unable to remain still, I took up my usual activity of pacing and glancing at the clock every two minutes. I had to wait another torturous hour for her to arrive. Concerned my constant turns back and forth in front of the hearth would wear a strip in the carpet, I had been making rounds throughout the entire room instead. As it happened, I was on the opposite side of the room when Avrille finally arrived through the Floo. The moment I saw her I started forward quickly but then stopped, finding myself inexplicably shy. Avrille had done much of the same, taking a few paces forward, but then stopping as she saw I had done. Reminding myself that the sudden awkwardness between us was entirely of my own doing and thus my responsibility to mend, I crossed the room until I was right in front of her. However, I found the few words I had pulled together fled from my tongue as I hesitantly opened my mouth. Fortunately, Avrille saved me the anguish of trying to start the conversation.

"I'm sorry it took me a while… Lavinia wouldn't let me go until she filled me in on the latest details of her Henry," she said with a shy, apologetic smile.

Her simple, everyday words shook the reticent feelings from me, and I rushed to take her into my arms. For a moment she allowed me to once more fill my five senses with her wondrous presence, but then gently pulled back so she could look me in the eyes.

"I want to apologise for last night," she said quietly. "I was moving too fast, and I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable…"

"—No, you're not allowed to apologise," I said. "You did nothing wrong. I was just… surprised." That was the best wording I could think of. I took her face between my hands and kissed her forehead. I had finally reached a decision, which was to let Avrille make the decision for me.

"I want you to tell me," I said, "what you want. Whatever it is, I will do it."

Avrille hesitated for a moment, then stated matter-of-factly, "I want to go to bed with you." Though her cheeks flushed a pale crimson as she said it, her eyes never left mine, and it was her honest, unblinking gaze that finally nailed down my resolution. It was her wish, and I was not about to argue with her.

I wrapped one arm around Avrille's waist as I swept her up and carried her toward my bedroom, the door slamming open as the urgency of my magic preceded me. I laid Avrille gently upon the bed and settled my body over her, propping myself up on my forearms so she wouldn't feel trapped. With a hand I waved out the candlelight, but Avrille took hold of my wrist and, without even a movement from her, a few candles sputtered back to life, casting us in flickering half-shadows. I traced the outline of Avrille's face with a single finger. I was about to ask her if she was sure this was what she wanted, but she pre-empted me by dragging her fingers roughly through my hair and pulling me down on top of her. I lost all train of conscious thought as she pressed her lips hungrily against mine.

As though silently commanded by Avrille, I blindly undid and slid my arms out of my fitted waistcoat, throwing it to the floor beneath us. While I buried my face in her neck, kissing the delicate skin and relishing the feel of her throbbing pulse beneath my lips, Avrille kicked off her shoes and deftly slid out of her trousers. As she had done the night before, she placed a hand over mine and guided it downwards. However, now that I knew I had her full consent, I gently gripped her fingers and pushed her arm up over her head before reaching back down to drag my rough, unworthy fingers up along the inside of her satiny thigh. Avrille moaned quietly and took hold of my chin so she could force her lips against mine once more.

Barely able to keep my hands steady, I slowly undid the delicate pearl buttons of her blouse to reveal a thin, rose-coloured silk camisole that was only a few shades pinker than the creamy, flushed skin beneath. The blouse soon joined the growing pile on the floor, and, for the first time, I allowed my hands to explore every inch of Avrille's body. As I trailed my fingertips over the soft curve of her breast and shallow basin of her stomach, I was met with the realisation that nothing besides two flimsy scraps of silk now stood between me and her nakedness; and my own clothes, of course, though Avrille was quickly remedying that.

Apparently convinced my methods took too long, Avrille gripped the closed halves of my own shirt and ripped them apart, showering us briefly with several buttons which she impatiently brushed off the bed. Tossing my ruined shirt aside, Avrille pressed her hands against my chest and forced me to roll over so she could lay on top of me instead. This change of position I welcomed, breathing in the perfume of her hair as it fell softly across my face. I threaded my fingers through it to hold back its tumbling stream so I could find Avrille's lips once more. She kissed me back fiercely, first flicking her tongue against mine then pulling back to bite my lower lip, which once more brought to my attention how uncomfortably tight my trousers were becoming.

I dropped one hand from her face, causing her hair to rush forward and blind me once more in a sea of cinnamon brown strands, and unfastened my waistband. I pulled my trousers down as far as I could then allowed magic to strip them off completely. Seeing that I was now completely bare and not wanting to be left behind, Avrille quickly tossed off her remaining undergarments then stretched her sinfully soft body across the full measure of mine. Reaching backwards, I managed to bring down the edge of the blanket and, with a slight shifting of position that left me once more strategically on top, I pulled Avrille under the bedcovering with me.

The crisp coldness of the sheets meeting the hot skin of my back sent a small shockwave through my body and helped to quiet the voice of my basest animal instincts, which were screaming for me to take Avrille immediately. As it was I found my years of perfecting self-control served me well in this new situation, and I was able to allay the hungry beast and focus instead on bringing as much pleasure to Avrille as possible.

Now with nothing but our own skin between us, I ran my hands wildly over Avrille's body, her arched back and whispers of my name only spurring me on. The sheets soon warmed from our passionate fire. I kissed Avrille slowly and tenderly, allowing my lips to convey the depths of my love that I usually could find no words to express.

Finally Avrille's moans turned the subtle curve of insistent to impatient, so I settled myself over her once more and gently parted her legs with mine. At that moment I found myself hesitant; not only were insufferably annoying thoughts of my curse circling through my mind, but I also knew from viewing all of Avrille's memories that I was her first man. Even through the urgency of animalistic lust, I was still afraid of hurting her.

Avrille apparently held no qualms over the matter and pulled me forcefully inside of her while I was in the midst of inopportune mental debating. The suddenness of the action nearly sent me over the edge, but once more my rigorous training in self-denial served me well, and I was able to hold back the impatient tide of more than a decade of complete celibacy. I knew that a gentleman always made sure that his lady was well taken care of first, and I also wanted to stretch this moment out into infinity.

I closed my eyes and allowed Avrille to guide my motions. Blind in the red-tinged darkness, I kissed every part of her that I could reach without breaking our unity. I responded with increasing forcefulness as Avrille's kisses became more urgent, her fingernails boring deep grooves into the skin of my shoulders. With a hand, I held her hips tightly against mine, and I could feel the clenching of her muscles beneath my fingertips.

Finally, when I thought that I could no longer hold back, Avrille cried aloud and I allowed myself to join her in her swells of ecstasy, my mind, for once, numbingly thoughtless and filled only with splashes of colour and light. I felt as though my heart were about to burst as years and years of emotion broke forth in those few eternal moments of unadulterated bliss.

When it was over, I collapsed on top of Avrille and gulped shuddering breaths of the hot air between her neck and the pillow. Avrille ran her fingers through my hair with a gentleness which was almost unbearable as my skin tingled from sensory overload. I raised my head and looked at Avrille, who was laying with her eyes closed and a contented smile on lips. Watching her beautiful face, I was so happy that I started to laugh. She opened her eyes and stared at me quizzically.

"What's the matter?" she asked, lightly dragging a finger down the side of my face.

"Nothing," I replied, still laughing. "Absolutely nothing." I kissed her deeply.

I had consummated my love with Avrille, fulfilling the stipulation of the Death Wish, and nothing at all had happened.


	29. Chapter Twenty Nine: AVRILLE

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

_Avrille_

After we made love, I lay nestled in Severus' strong arms, thinking I was so happy I wouldn't care if the dungeons and castle collapsed around us. Alright, that was a stupid thought, because if that happened we'd be dead and never be able to re-enact this evening's more wonderful moments. Before coming down to Severus' room, I had really thought he was angry with me for being so forward the night before. I certainly had _not_ expected to end up in his bed naked with him an hour later, but such unexpected events were always welcome in my book. I was so happy that the _whole_ experience had been wonderful; I had been a little worried because I had heard from friends it hurt like hell your first time. I guess the quick spell I had invented spur of the moment had helped in that respect, since a discreet checking of the sheets beneath me had shown no evidence of bleeding.

Though it was still early in the night, I would have been completely content to just listen to the sound of Severus' slow breathing and drift off to sleep. However, he seemed to have other ideas in his mind.

I was allowed a fifteen-minute cuddle before Severus lifted my chin, kissed me, then said with a devilish smile, "Get dressed."

Now, after seeing that look in his eyes, that was the _last_ thing I would have expected him to say-the most likely being something more along the lines of, "I'm ready to go again, how about you?"-but before I could question him, Severus sat up and began tossing our clothes back onto the bed.

Still laying comfortably in the warm place he had left behind on the sheets and reluctant to leave, I asked, "Do I have to?" I rolled over onto my stomach in what I hoped was a seductive enough pose to lure him back into bed.

Severus already had his pants on and was using his wand to reattach the buttons I had torn off of his shirt. He looked back at me over his shoulder and said, in an infuriatingly calm voice, "Yes, you do. Hurry up, I want to go out."

With a melodramatic groan, I pulled the sheet up over my head and tried to put on my underthings without emerging from the warm, soft cocoon. I managed to get fully dressed without leaving the bed and only popped my head back out into the cold air of the room as I did up the buttons on my blouse by feel. Severus was staring at my progress curiously as he sat at my feet and tied his shoes.

"Is this how you always get dressed?" he asked.

"I _really_ don't want to get up…" I moaned and pulled the blankets around me even tighter.

Severus laughed then cruelly pulled my coverings off, making me squeal and bunch up into a ball. I was normally used to the temperature of his rooms, but now, after becoming accustomed to the warmth of his body next to me, the room seemed freezing.

Severus leaned over me and whispered, "I promise it will be worth it," and offered his hands to help me rise. With one last grumble, I took hold of his hands and allowed him to pull me up into a standing position. I followed him back out to the sitting room.

"You'll probably want a coat," he said as he fetched his own black suede frock coat from a wardrobe near the door. I was still feeling sleepy-eyed, so I tried to Conjure my spring jacket without even taking out my wand. The fact that I actually _managed to_ made me wake up a little. Severus graced me with an impressed nod as we bundled up.

"Where are we going?" I asked.

Severus walked over to the mantel and held out the urn of Floo powder to me. "To the Shack, for the moment," he said. I took a pinch of powder. "Go on ahead. I'll be right behind you."

Shrugging my shoulders, I followed his instructions and, after tossing in the powder, stepped into the pleasantly warm green flames. Stepping out of the Floo was not quite as pleasant. Though, as I got my bearings, it seemed the Shrieking Shack was actually marginally warmer than Severus' rooms had been. I waited with my arms wrapped tightly around myself, and a few moments later, Severus appeared beside me.

"Ready?" he asked.

"I don't know how I can be since I have no idea what we're doing," I said, a little testily.

However, my tone of voice seemed to simply amuse Severus, and he replied cheerfully, "Excellent. Take hold of my arm. We're going to Apparate."

Again I did as I was told, figuring whatever he had planned must be pretty spectacular, since he knew I would kill him if he made me get out of bed for no good reason. I felt Severus' arm under my chilly fingers turn clockwise away from me, and I gently followed the curve. Now that I could Apparate by myself, the Side-Along-Apparation did not seem nearly as uncomfortable as the first time I had experienced it with him. There was just the instantaneous moment where I felt like my entire body was imploding, but then it was over.

Taking a gulp of fresh air, I looked around where we had arrived at. We were in the middle of a forest path, though calling it that was generous since it seemed to merely be an area where the underbrush was slightly thinner. All around us stood broad trees with shining, dripping leaves which scented the air with a slightly acrid, bitter smell that was different from the air around Hogwarts, but certainly not unpleasant. The night hummed with the gentle chirping of hidden insects awake and active in the unusually warm temperature. A breeze was winding its way through the trees, and I could almost taste the sharp tang of sea salt as it blew across my parted lips.

Severus looked up and down the "path" a few times before taking my hand and leading me in a certain direction, saying, "This way, I think."

A cream-coloured moon, a day from its last quarter, sagged just above the top of the trees and cast its lazy beams through the few breaks in the thick-growing leaves. Severus led me through tall grasses and clinging brambles on an alternating trail of pale moonshine and utter darkness. I pulled my coat tighter against me with my free hand so as to not get caught up on the numerous thorny vines and creepers which seemed to reach out and snatch at me.

"Is it permissible yet for me to know where we are?" I asked.

"Italy," Severus stated simply without turning back to look at me.

"It… Italy?" I uttered weakly. I had never Apparated so far and was glad Severus had not told me of our destination before now. If I had known we would be traveling half a continent away, I would have been extremely nervous and probably jinxed the spell.

"To be more precise, we're on a small, uninhabited island in the Mediterranean Sea, off the coast of Italy," Severus said, glancing back at me over his shoulder. We stepped through a patch of moonlight which seemed to illuminate Severus' face as paler than normal. He still had a faint smile on his lips. He slowed his pace slightly so I could catch up and match his strides. We walked onward side-by-side through the rich foliage, though it seemed the trees were now thinning somewhat. I heard Severus make a quiet noise beside me and looked over to see him holding a few fingers against his forehead, his eyes squinted in pain.

Seeing my concerned expression, he said lightly, "Only a slight headache. I didn't get any sleep last night, so it's probably just catching up with me."

After a few more minutes of silently forcing our way through who knew how many years of uninterrupted plant growth, we turned a bend and entered a clearing bathed in silver starlight. In the center of the clearing, nestled in a standalone copse of olive trees, was an ancient-looking, circular stone pavilion. It wasn't large, probably no more than thirty paces around, and was made of up eight ivy-saturated columns supporting a domed stone roof. The moonlight was shining on a figure in the center of the marble base. As we walked closer, I could see it was a statue of a young woman draped in an expertly carved stola and holding a large urn on her shoulder. Her marble hair flowed down over her chest as her beautiful face looked up at the empty space above the urn. The sculptor had fixed a serene smile on her lips, and it seemed as though she was gazing lovingly up into the sky at something only she could see.

The closer I stepped toward the statue, the more I felt a gentle humming deep in my bones. The air around us seemed to vibrate with the anciently slow pulse of the earth itself.

"There's a great power here. What is this place?" I asked breathlessly.

"I don't really know, honestly," Severus replied. "Probably a temple built by some Muggles thousands of years ago who were able to sense the difference here yet not understand what it meant." He let go of my hand and moved to stand in front of the statue with his arms crossed.

"This is a naturally occurring magical epicentre; Hogwarts was constructed over one as well. I discovered this place when I was at school in Rome. Whenever I was bored, I would Apparate to a completely random place to see where I would turn up. I became quite skilled at Apparating in water since I ended up in the sea half of the time. One day I stumbled upon this place. I could tell no one had been here in centuries, and the complete solitude and strength of the raw magic calmed me. Whenever I felt stressed or overwhelmed with schoolwork, I would come here and just sit. I would stare at the statue and dream that someday I might have a woman with whom I could share all of my most intimate secrets and desires."

Severus ducked his head and reached into his pocket for something, which he fetched out and held hidden in his cupped hand. He turned and held out his free one to me once more. I stepped forward and slid my cold hand into his large, warm one. He looked me deeply in the eyes and took a slow, shuddering breath. Then, he dropped to one knee before me; my eyes starting filling with tears before he even opened his mouth.

Still holding my hand tightly in his, Severus looked up at me, the starlight shining brightly in his dark eyes. He said quietly, "Avrille, I never imagined I would ever meet anyone like you. For years I have been stumbling through mindless routine and seemingly endless darkness, wondering what was the purpose of my life. I realized the moment I met you that my purpose on this earth is to serve you and endeavour to become a better man who deserves you. Though I know I am not perfect, I hope with all of my heart you will accept me for who I am and allow me the unsurpassable honour of becoming your husband."

I could barely make it out through my tears, but I saw Severus open his other hand and hold it out to me. Balanced on his palm was a small black box which magically flipped open to reveal a diamond ring, gleaming like Severus' eyes in the moonlight. No, that wasn't exactly correct; the ring _itself_ was gleaming. It somehow possessed an inner fire that reflected off of the sharp angles of the stone and lit up Severus' palm with a gentle glow.

Though I wanted to scream, "_What do you think?_ _YES, OF COURSE!"_ out into the silent night, I found my throat was blocked with half-choked-back tears. So instead I nodded my head so vigorously it was amazing I didn't pull a muscle in my neck, and dropped to my knees beside Severus while gasping for breath through enormous sobs. Severus wrapped his arms around me as I cried tears of sheer joyful bliss all over the shoulder of his suede coat. After a moment I was able to pull myself together enough for Severus to slide the ring onto my finger and we kissed, the salty tears running down the corners of my mouth flavouring it interestingly.

I allowed myself a few more sobs while Severus held me tightly on his knee. Once I could get out words, I said, "The ring is so beautiful."

"I'm glad you like it," Severus said and brushed back clumps of my hair that were sticking to my hot cheeks. "It's a true Eternal-Diamond, the stone encasing a flame of Gubraithian fire which will never grow dim." He kissed me once more gently. "I thought it an appropriate symbol of my love for you."

I shook my head in disbelief and stared at the gem adorning my finger. "God, this must have cost you an absolute fortune…"

"Yes," he admitted simply, "but since I live at Hogwarts, I am free from paying room and board, so my salary has tended to sit in Gringotts and compound upon itself. It was about time I had something to finally spend the money on."

I moved my finger this way and that, watching the pale moonlight glitter on the outside of the diamond while the magical fire burned within. The thought of soon being Severus' wife passed through my mind once more, and I dissolved into a state of laughing out tears. I tried my hardest to get a grip on myself, knowing I couldn't go to pieces every time the thought popped up or else I'd be crying for the rest of my life; the thought of the rest of my life, being with Severus, made me just cry even harder.

It was a full five minutes until I had emptied the emotional reserves and could stand up with Severus once more. After we rose I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him fiercely, thinking how wonderful it would be now to return to his room and climb back in bed together. However, just as we parted our lips, Severus grimaced and rubbed at his forehead with his fingers like he had before.

"Are you alright?" I asked.

Severus shook his head slightly to dispel the pain then said, "Yes, it's just bothering me a bit more now. Perhaps we should return to the castle, and I can take something for it."

I agreed immediately, so Severus Apparated us both back into the Shrieking Shack, and from there we took the Floo back to his rooms. His headache seemed to be truly bothering him, so I fetched him a pain-relieving draught and a glass of water while he sat on the couch, holding his forehead between his hands.

"Thank you," he said, accepting the two glasses I held out. Downing the contents in two gulps, he levitated the glasses back over to the sideboard and stood up from the couch.

"I probably should get to bed, to sleep that is, though I am highly regretful I am not feeling up to more," he said, taking me by my shoulders and kissing me lightly. Then he said, to answer my yet unasked question, "And I imagine we can risk you sleeping down here for _one_ night, don't you think?"

I heartily agreed and followed Severus back into the bedroom. The bed was all made and perfect once more, making me feel strange wondering if the house-elf in charge of his rooms knew what we had been up to. I Conjured my bedtime things down and changed into a nightgown. Then, I brushed my teeth next to Severus in the bathroom, something that seemed almost more personal and wonderful in its simplicity than the passionate love we had made earlier.

We climbed into bed together, and I rested my head on Severus' bare chest as he read. He commented his headache was already a bit better and assured me it was fine for me to go to sleep. Glad for that, I rolled over and pulled the blankets up over my chin, the occasional soft rustling as Severus turned a page in his book and the feel of his free hand lightly rubbing my back lulling me into instant slumber. I woke up briefly when Severus turned out the light, but then quickly fell back asleep with the comforting warm weight of his arm draped over me and the gentle brush of his breath on the back of my neck.

I don't remember my dreams from that night, but I know they had been awful. Dark and pressing shadows stole through my mind, something I had not expected after experiencing such a perfect evening. When I finally awoke, I felt sluggish and uncomfortable, as though the nightmares had followed me into reality. I didn't know what time it was since Severus' room was pitch black, but I squeezed my eyes shut once more and decided to try and get at least an hour of better sleep. I rolled over and groped beside me for Severus, thinking that hugging his warm body would relax my thoughts. However, no matter how far I reached, all I could feel was icy cold sheet.

I opened my eyes once more, and my slightly more awake senses began to notice a definite feeling of _wrongness _in the air. I couldn't figure out exactly what it was, but there was a dark, unpleasant feeling around me, like the magical equivalent of the stench of burning hair. It made the back of my neck prickle, so I immediately cast a Purifying Charm to cleanse the space. Once things felt normal again, I thought alight the candles to see where Severus was.

He was not in the bed, and at first I thought perhaps he had just gotten up to use the bathroom, but then I remembered how cold the sheets had been. He must have been gone for quite a while. I crawled across the vast expanse of the bed and reached out to take Severus' watch from the bedside table where I had seen him lay it last night. It read six in the morning, so I had at least gotten a full night's sleep even if I didn't feel like it. I placed the watch back down and regretfully got up out of bed, thinking Severus must be in the other room. I opened the door to the parlour, but it was completely dark as well. A quick lighting of those candles revealed the room to be empty.

I jumped back into bed and sat with the soft down blankets wrapped around me. Looking around, I made a visual inventory of the room. My clothes from last night were still draped over a chair near the windows, Severus having dropped his in the laundry chute after changing for bed. Everything seemed orderly and where it should be.

Almost everything, that is; Severus' wand was still lying on the table next to the watch, something I found to be incredibly strange since he himself was nowhere to be seen. Perhaps something had come up and, not wanting to wake me, he had to go out into the school… But still, the thought of my ever-cautious Severus leaving his wand behind was absurd. I had no clue what to make of it.

I snuffed out the candles then lay back down, still incredibly tired. I shut my eyes and tried to relax. Hopefully Severus would be back soon, and it would be best for me to rest a little more so I was coherent then. Sleep soon overcame me and fortunately brought no more upsetting dreams.

When I woke up for the second time, the room was still dark, something that would normally make sense since no sunlight could penetrate both the lake and the heavy, drawn curtains of the bedroom windows. However, this bothered me since I knew instinctively that I was still alone in the bed, and if Severus had returned, he obviously would have a light on somewhere. I sat up, annoyed, and brought forth the light once more. The room looked exactly the same; Severus' wand was still resting in the same spot.

By now I was growing hungry, and since the watch told me it was just past eight, I decided to return to my rooms to get dressed so I could have some breakfast. Most likely Severus would be there, and I could discreetly ask him what had happened.

I knew there was no way I could wear my engagement ring around the school without being dogged with inconvenient questions; it would be impossible for someone not to notice a rock that size. I went into the wardrobe in the sitting room and found the coat Severus had worn the night before. In one of the pockets I located the ring box and regretfully replaced my ring safely inside. The box I left on Severus' desk then took the Floo back to my own rooms to change.

Severus was not at breakfast, and I obviously couldn't ask anyone if they knew where he was. In other respects, breakfast was a perfectly normal affair, and I ate my eggs and toast ravenously, being totally famished after the walk and fresh air from the night before. Yesterday at dinner Lavinia had been pestering me to go to lunch with her so she could spend some serious time with me discussing whether or not the fact that Henry had mentioned he liked kids meant he wanted to remarry soon. My mind was still a little fuzzy from my bad night's sleep, but I agreed to lunch later since Lavinia seemed so desperate for emotional guidance.

After breakfast I thought it might be nice to bring Caligula down to Severus' rooms since I felt I had been neglecting him lately. He nearly clawed my face off in the Floo and leapt gratefully from my bleeding arms once we landed on Severus' hearthstones. Severus did not appear to have come back yet, and I spent a few hours watching Caligula sniff out every single inch of the rooms. And I'm not exaggerating there; he even inspected the tops of the bookcases.

When lunchtime rolled around, I forced Caligula back into the fireplace with me, not wanting to leave him unsupervised to wreak clawed havoc on Severus' priceless books. After dumping him on my bed and healing up more three-inch scratches, I walked down to the castle entrance hall to meet Lavinia. The day was beautiful, warm and sunny, and I enjoyed the walk into town. We lunched at our usual table in the Three Broomsticks. I found myself a little distracted from Lavinia's conversation since I kept glancing around to see if by some strange chance Severus had come to Hogsmeade as well. Unfortunately, no trace of him surfaced, and when I returned to the castle at dusk after an afternoon of window shopping with Lavinia, I found his rooms to be just as cold and dark as I had left them earlier.

By now I was starting to grow slightly concerned. There didn't seem to be cause for full out worry yet, since nothing appeared out of the ordinary, and word of something like another attack in the school would have spread through the student rumour mill like wildfire. There _was_ that weird feeling I had sensed in the room when I had first woken up, but nothing about it had raised any feelings of instant alarm in me; it had simply been unpleasant and uncomfortable. Forcing Caligula back down with me—in his carrier this time-so I wouldn't be so lonely, I sat reading in Severus' sitting room until eleven o'clock at night. I Conjured down my bedtime things again, got changed, placed a litter pan for Caligula in the bathroom, and lay down in Severus' bed just before midnight. I left a single candle lit, for when he came back. As I drifted off to sleep, I hoped with all of my heart Severus would be next to me when I woke up.


	30. Chapter Thirty: SEVERUS

CHAPTER THIRTY

_Severus_

I'm not sure exactly what it was I noticed first that alerted me something was very wrong. It was probably the cold. Before I could feel any physical things around me when I awoke, I realized how desperately cold I was. I opened my eyes to darkness so thick it was nearly tangible; darkness so whole it cannot be from the simple blocking of light but the utter _absence_ of it. The next thing I perceived was that I was laying on a smooth, hard surface, colder than the frigid air around me. I reached out instinctually to the left where my wand should have been on the bedside table, even though my half-awake mind _knew_ I was certainly not in my bedroom. After grasping at more freezing air and forcing myself not to lose my head from complete confusion, I sat up and pressed my hands together while deeply concentrating. A moment later I was cupping a small ball of warm light, and I stood while moving my hands around to take in my surroundings.

The ground I had been laying on was dark granite, and directly to my right was a high-reaching wall of the same material. The granite was completely smooth and polished. Around me was almost complete silence, broken only by the sound of a gentle dripping from a ways away and the soft howl of what sounded like wind whistling through a small opening. The air smelled stale and old, with a hint of earth and another musty odour I could not place.

I took a few steps away from the wall, my bare feet feeling like they were almost burning from the cold of the stone floor, and passed my light across the rest of the space. The light fell on a raised slab of more granite upon which was a long block of white marble. I didn't think I could be any colder, but a chill definitely ran down my spine seeing that. I walked over to the marble, hoping I was wrong about what I strongly guessed it to be.

Up close, the block turned out to be two pieces, a large one covered by a thin slab, a seam showing that it was a lid. On that lid was carved:

_Septimus Snape_

_July 23, 1932 - June 29, 1982_

Though I had already guessed, the writing confirmed it; somehow I was in my father's tomb.

It seemed that _all_ parameters of the Death Wish had been fulfilled, though I certainly had not expected this as the outcome. Suddenly filled with dread, I flashed the light around wildly in the case Avrille had been brought here with me. However, a careful inspection of the area around the sarcophagus showed no sign of her. For the moment I would have to act on the assumption that Avrille was safe and take care of myself.

Still holding my light close for warmth, I walked to the far side of the tomb and up the steps which I knew led to the outside. At the top I inspected the doorway, which had been sealed with another piece of perfectly sized granite cemented in place. Staring at the solid stone obstacle, I had to force myself to stay calm and not panic. Closing my eyes, even though there wasn't much visual stimuli to block out, I tried to will the door open. Nothing happened, but I really hadn't expected it to be that easy. I pressed a few fingers lightly against the stone to mentally read the spells; I had set them myself, so I figured it should be easy to unravel them. However, that yielded nothing useful either. I had still been furious during my father's inhumation and had sealed the tomb with the strongest spells I knew, as if to somehow protect the rest of the world from his corpse. To further complicate matters, passing time and the closeness of the other protective spells on the property had warped my original magic. There was no way I could undo the Sealing Charms without my wand.

Loath to have to resort to base physical action, even in my dire situation, I nevertheless set the light to float above me as I pressed my hands against the blockage. However, all of my strength was not enough to move it a millimetre. I was completely trapped.

I returned to the lower room of the tomb, taking my ball of light with me. I reduced its brightness, knowing it was needlessly draining my strength, but still reluctant to return to the pitch black. Vowing to worry about escaping later, I turned my mind to focus on my most immediate problems, the forefront runner being quickly encroaching hypothermia. The air was not cold enough for me to see my breath in the pale light, but only just. Long exposure to such temperatures would prove deadly; I had to find a non-energy-expending way to warm up.

I had arrived at my present location wearing nothing but the light cotton trousers I had worn to bed; somehow I had to further clothe myself. Only one option came to mind in this room of solid rock, and it made me nauseated to even consider it. However, I knew I had absolutely no other alternatives, so I sent the light to hover over the lid of the sarcophagus. Praying that I at least had enough muscle power for this, I pushed with all of my might against the marble cover. Fortunately, I was able to shift it a few inches. A few more heaves created an opening large enough for me to get my hands underneath to tip it off. The cover crashed thunderously to the floor and broke in two. Taking a deep breath, though through my mouth in case the contents inside still stank, I looked into the dark interior.

The remains of my father were wrapped in a white linen cloth, which had yellowed slightly with time but seemed to still be in good condition. I had no idea what clothing my father had been buried in, having left all of the funeral arrangements to his solicitor. My father had ordered his tomb built before I was even born, and it was one of the earliest and greatest drains he had made in my mother's inheritance. Since I had barely ever wanted to have anything to do with him in his life, I certainly did not want to deal with my father in his death. The only reason the now broken sarcophagus cover was carved with his death date was because my father had already paid for the service, and the sculptor refused to return the money, saying too much time had passed since the transaction.

With utter dispassion I pulled apart the folds of the burial shroud to see if there was anything on my father's corpse worth salvaging. The body had long ago decayed, the fluids having drained from strategically placed holes drilled into the bottom of the marble down into the earth beneath. What skin remained on the face was tight and shrunken, creating the appearance of a leather-covered skull. Biting back the sudden, pointless urge to slam my fist into the flaky, eyeless face I moved my gaze down to the clothing itself.

My father had been buried in a rather expensive-looking suit covered by a formal robe. On his feet were sturdy leather riding boots, which had survived the internment in superb condition. These I pulled off gently, not wanting to take off the bottom of the legs as well, then shook them upside-down to clear out the tattered remains of some socks. Not wanting to have to touch the actual body if I could help it, I decided to simply stick with the burial shroud and hope it was warm enough. I put on the boots, tucking in the bottoms of my trousers to trap the heat, then wrapped the linen cloth tightly around me. For the moment, that problem was solved.

Now that I was awake and moving, I found myself viciously hungry, my last meal being the half-eaten dinner at Hogwarts a lifetime ago. There was nothing I could do about that problem and would simply have to suffer through the hunger pangs. Though I couldn't locate the source, the shrill whistling of the wind meant that at least some air was circulating so I was unlikely to suffocate. My next mission was to discover the location of the dripping sound. This I found in a far corner where a tiny trickle of water ran down the seam of the two walls and into a small pool on the floor before disappearing down a thin crack in the granite. Though I wasn't thirsty at the moment, I knew the discovery of the water could be the determining factor of whether I got out of here alive, if I got out at all.

No, I needed to stop thinking like that. Being fatalistic was a death-sentence in itself. Bundling up even tighter in the shroud, I slid down a wall to sit on the floor. Someone at the castle would notice me to be gone soon. Avrille would obviously know right away, though I couldn't count on her alerting anyone immediately. She would think I had simply gone off somewhere, perhaps on school business. She would also be reluctant to inquire after me since she was supposed to be simply my apprentice and probably not have any contact with me during the holiday anyway. But surely Dumbledore, who knew I was going nowhere during the break, would take note of my absence at meals and ask questions…

But even if he did, what good would it do? He knew the location of my family home, but he had never actually been here. He had no reason to think I would be here at all, since he more than anyone knew how much I hated this place. And what could Avrille do, assuming she was even safe herself?

I dropped my head onto my arms wrapped around my drawn up knees. Even though I had enough to worry about in my _own_ present situation, the thought that Avrille might be in danger and I could not help struck terror into my heart. She had seemed fine last night after our coupling, but then so had I. There had been that horrendous headache, but at the time I had summed it up to sleep deprivation. As I thought back now, it was most likely the Death Wish curse trying to find a way into my mind to subdue me. It was pure habit for me to employ Occlumency during my waking hours, so that had probably stopped the curse for a time. However, when I had gone to sleep, I had not been protected, and the curse had spirited me away. It was _supposed_ to be impossible to Disapparate out of Hogwarts, but that was not really true. The house-elves could do it naturally, and it was only Dumbledore's expert magic that kept the school impenetrable from outside forces. An ancient, Dark magic like a Death Wish curse could easily overpower that of the headmaster.

With my head still buried in my arms, I stopped the light spell. I would need every ounce of strength remaining in me, and the psychological comfort of light was not worth the draining of my reserves. Perhaps later I could have another go at the blocked doorway, but for the moment I needed to rest from the effort expelled removing the sarcophagus lid. Knowing I had nothing else I could do, I slumped over and tried to sleep.


	31. Chapter Thirty One: AVRILLE

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

_Avrille_

When I woke up the next morning and saw by the light of the single flickering candle that I still alone in the bed, and Severus' wand was still beside me, I knew something was definitely wrong. This morning I could actually _feel_ it, as though the love between Severus and I connected us almost telepathically. I could sense for sure that he was in some sort of trouble. I didn't know _what_ it could be, but the fact that Severus could be gone for at least twenty-four hours and not return for his wand boded ill in itself. I deposited Caligula in my rooms once more and walked down to breakfast with the faintest shimmer of hope in an otherwise heavy heart. But, as I had expected, Severus was not in the Great Hall.

His disappearance still seemed to be going unnoticed; no one took a second look at his empty place at the staff table. I wondered how many missed meals it would take to arouse Professor Dumbledore's suspicion. Perhaps it was common for Severus to leave the castle during breaks, and everyone was just assuming that someone _else_ must know where he was.

Worries about Severus so consumed me that I nearly forgot about the study session I had promised a group of seventh year Ravenclaws after lunch. Even though the group consisted of some of the highest ranking academic performers in the school, they hadn't trusted their own study skills to be enough to guarantee straight O's on the exams. The girls had openly begged me to help them review for their Potions N.E.W.T., knowing Severus would _never_ agree to assist them himself. The Ravenclaw boys had decided to join up later, perhaps too shy to ask me themselves. So, for a good four hours, I sat in the library and reviewed all of the most random and complicated potions formulas I could think might be on the exam. Normally I loved spending time like this with the kids, but I was incredibly distracted with worries about Severus and more than once had to ask a student to repeat a question to me.

Once the students had had enough studying to liquefy their brains, they packed up their belongings and left me behind in the library. I felt completely brain-dead as well, and for a while I just stared blankly out one of the library windows. I was so absorbed in my own thoughts that I didn't even notice the approach of someone else until I felt a gentle tug on the sleeve of my robe. I looked over and was surprised to see it was Nan Cobble.

"Hi, Nan," I said quietly. "You didn't go home for Easter?"

"Uh uh," Nan replied, shaking her bouncy curls. Tightly against her chest she clutched a large picture book with an enormous squid on the cover which kept shooting out jets of ink across the dust jacket. "Luna stayed here, so I didn't want her to be all alone. But, Mistress Asphodel, I have to tell you something _really _important!"

_Oh not again_, I thought, then felt badly about it. Nan might be a _little_ bit dotty, but she was still one of the sweetest girls I had ever met.

But instead of blurting out some random factoid about cephalopods, Nan said, in a strikingly serious, mature voice that completely threw me off, "He's going to be ok_."_

I laughed slightly, in an effort to hide how her words had made me feel like someone just dropped a rock into my stomach. "What are you talking about, Nan?"

Nan, her brown eyes round and dark like two acorns, simply repeated, "He's going to be ok." Then, dropping her book onto the table, she wrapped her arms around me and whispered into my ear, "_I promise."_

Before I could respond at all, she picked up her book and skipped away from me, calling over her shoulder, "Ok, bye!" and was gone.

Nan's sentiments, though they utterly bewildered me, snapped me into the realization that too much time had passed without me taking some sort of action. Leaving the library behind, I took a quick walk down the castle path and through the main gates. Stopping just past the great winged boars, I took a minute to catch my breath. It would have been preferable to do this in Severus' bedroom, the last place I _knew_ he had been, but the magical protections on the castle prevented me from Apparating there. I had no choice but to make do with where I was now. Concentrating hard on recalling the exact flavour of Severus' magic, I turned on the spot, trying to trace him like I had the first time I had ever Apparated. When I fell to my knees, still next to the gate, I nearly broke down and cried. Wherever Severus was, I couldn't follow him there.

After Severus missed another dinner, I began to grow panicky. The growing feel of need to alert Professor Dumbledore waged war with the worry of getting Severus in trouble for being involved with me. I decided I still had one option left to me. If it completely failed, and Severus was not back in the morning, then I would go see Professor Dumbledore and tell him of my concerns.

Knowing I would need complete peace and quiet, I left Caligula behind for the night and returned alone to Severus' rooms. Mentally exhausted from worry, I got ready for bed earlier than usual. Once I was prepared, I laid between the sheets of Severus' bed and closed my eyes. Taking deep, slow breaths, I forced myself to calm down and focus all of my will on finding out where Severus was. I had never done this before, and didn't know if it would even be possible, but I had nothing to lose.

I was going to try and make myself have a vision.

I slept dreamlessly for hours then awoke several times, checking the clock and growing more and more frustrated. The fourth time I fell asleep, I was furious at myself. Yet, somehow, that anger and iron determination ended being what I seemed to need.

I suddenly found myself walking through the airy hallways of a large, grand house. Expensive-looking paintings hung from the pale cream walls, and along the passageway stood several small decorative tables, each displaying a single small figurine or vase. Directly in front of me were a set of French doors, open wide to blindingly bright sunshine. As I stepped through the doorway, and my eyes adjusted to the light, I saw that I was not outside, but in a large, glassed-in conservatory. Asian vases large enough for me to climb into overflowed with tumbling jasmine and exotic ivy, boxes of polished mahogany held bushes of white and pink roses, and potted fruit trees stretched to high above, the sounds of birds hidden in their branches filling the room with gentle music. At the far end of the conservatory was a white, wrought-iron table at which a young girl was sitting, drinking tea and sketching. Unable to see anyone else in the room, I walked toward her. As I approached she looked up from her drawing and smiled.

"I _knew_ you'd be able to find me eventually!" she said excitedly in a posh British accent and motioned for me to take the empty seat across from her at the table. As I took my seat warily, the girl poured me tea into a cup of bone china so fine it was nearly translucent in the brilliant sunshine. She handed me the cup on a similarly fine saucer painted with a delicate motif of violets, on which a tiny silver spoon rested. I took the tea, in the back of my dreaming mind wondering what on earth this might have to do with Severus, and took a small sip. The flavour of the black tea was unfamiliar to me, though I found its sweet spiciness to be interesting and pleasant. As I slowly drank a few more sips, I studied the girl over the rim of the china teacup.

She was definitely much younger than me and seemed to be around the age of the sixth year students at Hogwarts, placing her at sixteen or seventeen. She had curly blonde hair the colour of autumn wheat which fell in a shimmering cascade down her back. Her skin was almost as pale as the china, and from her face gleamed the greenest eyes I had ever seen. They were not the more common hazel, but deep and brilliant like emeralds. Her facial structure was delicate like a bird's with high cheekbones which made her green eyes slant slightly upwards at the corners like a cat. Her petite, slender frame was swathed in a light summer robe of flowing white silk with lace dripping from her elbow-length sleeves. She was by far the most beautiful girl I had ever seen in my life.

She watched me for a moment with a cheerful smile, then turned back to her drawing. She was holding her pad in the crook of her left arm while she sketched with her right and occasionally glanced up at me as I finished my tea; it was such a rich and grand atmosphere that I felt it would have been extremely rude not to.

Once I was done, I asked, throwing all caution to the wind, "Do you know Severus?"

The girl nodded distractedly, but didn't look up from her drawing. "Oh, yes, I know him quite well."

Before I could respond to this, the girl ripped the piece of paper she had been working on from her sketchpad and held it out to me. "Pretty good, don't you think? My mother thinks I might have a real talent for it." I took the paper from her and gazed down at a perfect charcoal reproduction of my own face. The girl must have started it hours ago, long before I even arrived, but since it was a dream, I knew that the flow of time was completely irrelevant.

"Yes, it's quite good," I replied, and continued hopefully, "but, if you know Severus, do you know what has happened to him? He's missing."

The charming smile melted from the girl's face, and her eyes were suddenly two orbs of sorrow. "He is in great danger," she said solemnly. With a sigh, she placed the sketchpad on the table. "I am protecting him now, but my strength is fading. You must hurry."

"But, where _is_ he?" I asked desperately.

The girl studied me for a moment, her sparkling green eyes squinted in a way that was strangely familiar to me. She seemed to be waging some sort of inner battle, and when the outcome was decided, she shook her head sadly and said, "I cannot tell you. _He_ won't let me."

"He? You mean Severus?"

The girl shook her head again and, with a trace of anger, repeated, "No, I _cannot_ tell you." She bit her lip and fingered a curly tendril of blonde hair, pulling at it in frustration. Suddenly her face lit up with inspiration.

"You must come see me," she said emphatically, reaching across the table to grab my hands with hers. Her hands were soft and her fingertips blackened from the charcoal pencil. She bored into me with her eyes, as though trying to communicate something extra. She squeezed my hands tightly and whispered with urgency, "You _must_ hurry. Severus can't last much longer… _Please_ come see me, Avrille!"

"I will. I'll come straight away." Though _how_ I would be able to find her or this place in reality, I had no idea.

"Good," the girl said with a decisive nod. "You had better go now. I wish we could talk some more, but there's no time."

Agreeing with her, I stood up from the table and bid the girl farewell. As I was just about to leave the conservatory the way I had come, she called out after me, "Avrille, take good care of my grandson, alright? Give him my love!"

"Oh, sure," I said automatically, though I had no idea what that was supposed to mean. It would be a good forty years until that girl had a grandchild and, even then, how was I supposed to know who he was when I didn't even know who _she_ was?

As soon as I passed through the French doors, they slammed shut behind me, and the dream faded into nothing.


	32. Chapter Thirty Two: SEVERUS

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

_Severus_

I woke with a start an indeterminable time later. The past few minutes or so I had felt a brush against my sleeping thoughts, as though something was trying to gain access without waking me. The only good thing about my present situation was that I was on my most vigilant guard, though I had not expected anything to come of it. The Death Wish had effectively banished me to my father's tomb in an attempt to make me join him for eternity, and I thought that was the end of the matter. However, now I was fully awake, I felt a foreign presence immediately that had my protective magical boundaries screaming for attention. Somehow, I was no longer alone.

"Who's there!" I commanded, standing up and summoning my light to me once more. A quick visual sweep of the space revealed nothing, but then I noticed that the strangeness lay not with something the light could _reveal_. Near the opposite wall was a patch of shadow that would not clear no matter how brightly I increased the strength of the light. Seeing the inexplicable darkness made my right hand itch for my wand. To conserve energy, I reduced the magical light to a mere candle flicker. I sat back down and kept a wary eye on the patch of shadow.

The assault came so suddenly and strongly that it nearly broke through my mental barriers. As it was I regained control only at the last moment and repelled the invading force with all of my might. Jumping to my feet again and watching the patch of shadow, I saw it swell for a moment before it receded to its previous size. Then I heard words. I say this because it was not a voice that spoke them. Voices do not sound like the scrape of iron against shale.

_Your defences are impressive, though they do not accomplish what you wish. They merely reveal the depth of your power. It will be delectable breaking you…_

I heard the metallic words not in my mind, which was still strongly bulwarked, so it must have been with my ears.

"Who are you!" I called out.

_Who? Who indeed… That shall be up to you, of course,_ the words replied icily. _But the more polite response would have been to identify yourself first. Who are _you _to be in _my_ home? An old acquaintance of the deceased, perhaps? Feeling nostalgic and desiring a walk down memory lane? If that is the case, I shall most happily oblige you…_

The words faded with a grating hiss that sounded disturbingly like laughter. The area of shadows swirled and grew until it was as tall as I was standing. The darkness compounded until it was thick, black and bubbling like boiling tar. Then it abruptly fell away, and a figure stepped out. Though I was doing my best to remain calm and strong, my magical light was quavering from the amount of will I was expending on my mental protection. The trembling light cut through the darkness to reveal what looked like a half-decayed corpse stumbling toward me. Though the ravaged features were indiscernible, the clothing it was dressed in was not. I glanced quickly into the sarcophagus and was actually much more disturbed to see that my father's body was still there than I would have been if it had been reanimated as the apparition before me.

"_This is what he looked like when I moved in… Hopefully he had seen better days." _The words now came from the apparition's rotting mouth, though the "voice" was still the same metallic scraping.

"_Perhaps you knew him when he was this Septimus Snape person, eh?"_ the voice said. Completely unbidden, an image of my father looking as he had in my childhood, haughty and proud, rose out of my memory. The apparition's next attack unfortunately came at that exact same moment. Thinking about my father for that single instant had raised the old childhood emotion of equal parts hatred and terror and had momentarily weakened my defences. The unknown being was only able to glimpse that brief mental picture of my father before I slammed shut the walls of my mind, but it had been enough.

"_Ah… More like _this, _then?"_

The corpse-figure turned disjointedly on the spot, and in an instant I was staring at a perfect likeness of my father. I struggled with all of my might to force down the panic that had risen up the back of my throat the moment I saw those cold, hard eyes. Though it was slightly disturbing to see my father seemingly in the flesh once more, I was a grown man and not so weak that the mere sight of him would bring me this sort of fear. The fear came from the sudden knowledge of what I was dealing with.

I was completely sealed in with a Revenant.

Revenants are one of the most dangerous Dark creatures in the entire world. Though they do not possess the razor-sharp fangs of a chimera, the violent brute strength of a dragon, or the poisonous sting of a manticore, they have a power even worse: they are completely self-conscious. Revenants know exactly what they are doing, and when they perform an action, it is with full knowledge of the resulting reaction.

An evolutionary twist on the Dementor and the Boggart, the Revenant has the singular power of invading the minds of its victims to torture them into madness. Whereas Dementors devour their victims' happiness, Revenants are sustained by the supreme suffering of humans. Revenants hold the power to change their shapes at will, though usually into something the victim fears, as with a Boggart. Creating a double assault on both the visual and mental fronts, the Revenant's goal is to keep the victim alive for as long as possible to extract the most sustenance from forcing him to relive his worst memories over and over. And this was what I was now facing. Without a wand.

I took a full measure of the visage before me. The Revenant had had only that one glimpse of my father to go on, but it had recreated him perfectly. From the expensive clothes that were nevertheless slightly shabby from constant wear, to the signature sneer of displeasure, my father now stood before me, in essence, alive again.

Dropping the linen shroud from me, it's voluminous folds suddenly becoming more of a hindrance than an asset, I stood to my full height.

"It will take more than a parlour trick such as this to break _me_," I sneered in return.

The Revenant smiled cruelly and raised an eyebrow. _"Ah… You fancy yourself brave, do you? Oh, but, you'll have to pardon me; I don't have the voice quite right yet, do I? I'm sure it will come soon… It's only a matter of time until I can start dining on those delicious thoughts of yours…"_

It looked around itself and continued in its hollow, harsh voice, _"What we need in here is some light so we can _truly _see each other."_ It clapped its "hands" once, and the tomb was suddenly filled with a bright light that was blinding to me after being in the near darkness for hours. I shielded my eyes with my hand until they adjusted. The Revenant waited patiently with its hands behind its back. Once it realised I could see, it spun theatrically and looked at its reflection in the polished granite wall.

"_I must say that I'm seeing a certain resemblance here…"_ it said, turning my father's body this way and that, as though it were trying on a suit in a store. It smoothed down a few invisible bumps in its long, black hair before turning back to face me._ "An old family member, perhaps?"_

I remained silent and stood with my arms crossed. This was certainly going to be a problem. I highly doubted my father had planned on this, but he would have been most pleased if he could see me now while he looked up from Hell. I suppose at this time I should have started to feel hopeless terror over my most likely imminent death, but I was too busy trying to keep a firm grip on the present to worry about the near future. I was unsure how long I would be able to sustain my mental barriers, and that was the key to how long I would survive. If the Revenant truly wished, it could turn itself into a werewolf or hippogriff and simply rip out my throat. However, that happening seemed unlikely. This Revenant appeared to have been waiting for prey for quite some time and would not want to waste me. As long as I kept my wits about me, I was safe.

I sat back down and wrapped myself in the shroud once more. The Revenant was right in that meaningless brave gestures from me would remain just that. My only hope now was to keep my strength up until help arrived. I had to keep acting like I had been before the Revenant awoke. If I thought that I was doomed, then I certainly would be.

The Revenant seemed slightly dismayed with my sudden withdrawal and paced aimlessly around the tomb. Besides that single glimpse of my father, proving to the Revenant that I _had_ known him at some point before his death, it had nothing else to go on. It could not torment me and bring forth mental tortures until it knew what would work. So, I sat as comfortably as I could and focused all of my energy at keeping my magical barriers steady and solid. When I grew thirsty, I pressed my mouth against the trickle of water on the wall. What I really needed was food, but that was not available. Ignoring my cramping stomach, I picked a spot on the floor to focus on and meditated, ignoring the Revenant who sat on the edge of my father's sarcophagus and watched me silently.

I wondered how it had been able to take up residence in my father's tomb without me being aware of its presence before now. It was true I only visited the property once a year, and then it was always at the opposite end where my mother's grave was situated. I supposed that even if there had been any signs of Dark magic when I walked past here to get to the house, I would have written them off as an after-effect of the Death Wish curse. In truth there _could_ have been signs, but I was so adamant in ignoring the curse that it was likely I simply blocked them from my notice.

Though I tried my hardest to remain focused, thoughts of Avrille would occasionally force their way into my mind, as aggravated at being ignored as she would be herself. Every time these thoughts surfaced, I shoved them brutally back into the deepest part of my memory. If the Revenant wanted to truly drive me mad, then Avrille would be the key.

Hours passed. I dared not sleep now, and the bright light would have made that impossible anyway. Whenever I felt light-headed from hunger, I filled my stomach with water instead. I maintained my vigil, my strength and power seeping slowly away like grains of sand falling one by one through the pinch of an hourglass, as the Revenant circled me like a vulture.


	33. Chapter Thirty Three: AVRILLE

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

_Avrille_

Once the vision had dissolved into flashings of normal, random images, I forced myself awake. As soon as the room came into focus, I jumped out of bed, filled now with purpose. The clock showed it was just after eight in the morning, so though it hadn't seemed that long, the vision had taken up a lot more time than I would have liked. Though I had absolutely no idea who that mystery girl was, or where she could be so I could go and "see" her, at least she had confirmed she knew Severus well. So, I figured, he must know _her._ Because of her age, I thought maybe she was a student of his, but I was certain I'd never seen her before in the school. I knew Severus had been an only child, so that ruled out the possibility of a younger sister. I really had to find her name. Then I could go to the library and try to find out more about her. I dressed in a hurry and walked into Severus' sitting room with my mind made up to find out who she was before any more precious time was lost.

Before now I had been much too concerned with Severus' privacy to look for any hints as to his whereabouts, but now that I was certain he was in danger, respecting his privacy was the least of my worries. I needed to find out all about him, and I needed to do it quickly; the girl said that he couldn't last much longer, wherever that was. Besides, it was possibly because of Severus' reticence that this had happened. I had always guessed there was something important he wasn't telling me, something to do with why he didn't want to become too intimate with me. Perhaps if I had known what was bothering him, then I would have had a clue as to why he had disappeared.

I sat down at Severus' desk and started pulling out drawers, tipping them gently over onto the floor so I could sift through their contents. The top two drawers had nothing in them except boring-looking finance sheets, old letters from his publishers and editors, and a box of purchase receipts, mostly laboratory supplies. I did find the receipt from the jewellers where Severus had bought my engagement ring and nearly choked when I saw the sale price. I hoped Severus had insured the ring like he had the necklace because, after seeing how much it had cost, I'd be too scared to take it out of its box again.

In the third drawer, there was a slew of information about me. He had a copy of my R.A.T., all of my grade transcripts, and the recommendation letters my former deans had written for me when I applied to Hogwarts for my apprenticeship. Though I was dying to know what they had said to help me get my position here, I didn't have time for that kind of distraction. Under my school files was a cut out picture of me that Colin Creevy had snapped for the school newspaper. The black and white ink around the photograph was smudged, as though it had been handled often. Beneath all of that, I located Severus' degree from the Academia Veneficiorum, still rolled up in its original leather presentation case.

The main drawer running along the underside of the desk was locked, but a simple charm opened it, making it unlikely to contain anything personal. Indeed, it only held folders of Severus' students' pre-Easter Potions grades. Severus probably didn't keep the students' most current marks in his office since that would be the obvious place to search if a devious student was looking to alter his grades. My heart skipped a beat for a moment when I was able to locate a hidden drawer in the desk, but it turned out to be completely empty.

Sitting in a sea of information, annoyed and desperate, I quickly flipped through every single sheet of paper once more. When that again resulted in nothing useful, I stood and spent over two hours inspecting the spine of every single book lining the walls, hoping for perhaps a photo album, a year book, or a family genealogy. All I found were classic novels and textbooks.

By now I was so frustrated I was getting angry. What was _wrong_ with Severus? Why would he have _no_ personal mementos _anywhere_?

I knelt beside the mess I had made on the floor and forced myself to take a few deep breaths. There _had_ to be somewhere else I could look… Severus may come across to others as being cold and indifferent, but I had long ago discovered his deep, pensive, romantic side. He treasured things that were dear to him, like that single picture of me he had saved from the newspaper and also his mother's necklace…

The necklace. The safe. I had forgotten about the safe.

I grabbed my wand and tried to stand up so quickly I slipped over the sheets of paper on the floor. I hurried over to where I knew the safe was concealed. When I inspected the books, I had been so focused on reading each individual spine that I had forgotten I was standing right in front of it. Now, holding my wand under my arm, I quickly scooped out the books blocking the secret panel and dropped them to the floor. Trying to pin down the unlocking spell Severus had shown me among my numerous other swirling thoughts, I took a deep breath and flicked my wand at the flat sheet of metal. The door sprang open, and I was hit with a quick burst of escaping air.

There was the black case containing the necklace Severus had given me, but, more importantly, beneath it lay the stacks of folders and papers I had noticed on my birthday when Severus put the necklace away. Behind the papers was another box about the same size as the necklace case, but made out of carved wood. I grabbed the folders and the wooden box and brought them over to the coffee table. Sitting down on the couch, I took the wooden box onto my lap and flipped it open.

Inside was a pile of photographs. The one resting on the top showed a girl sitting at a table holding a sketch pad, her black and white face smiling up at me.

It was the girl from my vision.

Holding my breath I gently removed the photograph, which had been sticking to the one beneath it, and held it up to the light. There was absolutely no denying it was of the same girl in the same exact room I had visited last night. There was even a cup and saucer set out at the empty place across from her at the table. With hands trembling I turned over the photograph and saw on the back that someone had written with an elegant, feminine script in light pencil: _"Charlotte at home, July 1954."_

The picture was of Severus' mother, taken five years before he was even born. I felt light-headed as realizations washed over me. I had spoken with Severus' mother… the woman who, had she lived, would have been _my_ mother-in-law. Turning over the photograph and staring at Charlotte again, I could definitely see the resemblance now. Though her colouring was the complete opposite of her son's, she had the same warm smile as him and moved her head and fingers in the same graceful way. Now that I knew who the mystery girl was, I put the photo aside to examine the remaining pictures.

There were only a dozen or so, but I could tell each one was painfully precious. The next two photographs were of Charlotte when she was slightly younger; one where she stood with her parents, the other of her sitting outside on a swing hanging from a tree branch. These had acquired a sepia tint, but were still in otherwise perfect condition. The next was of a beaming Charlotte holding an infant Severus on her lap. This one made me laugh out loud because I could never have imagined my tall, elegant fiancé had been such an enormously fat baby unless I had seen it with my own eyes.

There were four more pictures of young Severus with his mother. Even though only four or five years old, Severus as a boy had the same haunting stare as he did now. Occasionally his photographed self would break into a smile as his mother poked him playfully in the side, and the change to his countenance was breathtaking. There was one photo that looked like a posed family portrait, both ten-year-old Severus and Charlotte wearing uncomfortable-looking evening dress, but a piece of the picture was missing as though someone had ripped out a third person. I wondered if it had been Severus' father. I noticed in this particular picture that Severus did not smile once, and the smile on Charlotte's face looked pained and forced; lines creased the corners of her green eyes, which were two dull marbles that no longer sparkled with the brilliance of her youth.

At the bottom of the box were the only two photographs that were not of his mother. One was of Severus as a lanky teenager, wearing his Slytherin school uniform, with his arm playfully around the shoulder of a pretty girl who looked about the same age. She was wearing Gryffindor robes, her long red hair falling over her shoulders as she doubled up with laughter. She had green eyes that were almost as jewel-like as Charlotte's. I flipped the photo over and read handwriting that I recognized as Severus', though it was slightly messier as if he had written it around the time the picture was taken: "_Lily Evans and Me, Fourth Year."_ Now that I looked closer, the girl did look familiar. I must have seen her picture in the newspaper after she and her husband were murdered when You-Know-Who tried to kill Harry. The other photograph was of Lily as well, wearing graduation robes and holding aloft an award that read _"Head Girl of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, 1977"_ with one hand as she waved her other vigorously at the camera.

I gently replaced most of the photographs back into the box with a heavy sigh. All of the people contained therein, with the exception of Severus, were already dead. I stared at the picture of Charlotte sketching again, my stomach feeling as though a hand made out of ice was squeezing it, terrified at the thought it might be solely up to me to make sure Severus did not join their ranks. I rubbed the heels of my hands into my eyes, which were burning from all of the reading I had done the past few hours.

As I sat with red and green blotches flashing behind my closed eyelids, I mentally ran through all of the things Charlotte had said to me. She had said Severus was in danger, but she couldn't tell me where or why. She was protecting him at the moment, but she was quickly losing strength. She insisted I had to come and see her, which presumably meant that I needed to find out the location of the house with the conservatory. Maybe somewhere in that house was a more definite clue, but the thought of more endless searching while Severus was in peril made me want to scream. Then, just as the vision was ending, Charlotte had told me to take care of her grandson.

…But she was Severus' mother, so her grandson would be _his _child…

I dropped my hands from my face and snapped my eyes open, the room slowly returning to focus.

Severus' child…

Oh my God… Was it possible?

I leapt up off the couch and ran from the room out into the freezing cold dungeon corridors, not even caring if someone saw me. The heels of my shoes clacked noisily as I hurried through the twisting, shadowy passageways until I reached the main dungeon classroom. Not even remembering Severus had long ago told me that his storeroom was charmed so it couldn't be opened without a key, I thrust my wand at the latch and _expected _it to open, which it did. Holding my wand between my lips, I reached up and sorted distractedly through jars and bags of potions ingredients, searching desperately in the dim light for what I needed. Finally I located what I was searching for. With my arms filled with grimy containers, I ran back out into the classroom.

I lugged an extra cauldron onto one of the worktables, filled it with several cups of water, then lit a fire beneath. Brushing my hair back, which kept falling annoyingly into my face, I sliced and chopped herbs with a silver dagger as the water boiled beside me. I dropped the herbs into the cauldron and added a dash of several oils, filling the air around me with the floral scent of cooking magic. I was glad it was such a simple potion, because I knew I had little spare time to be doing this; but I had to know for sure.

After ten minutes or so, I cut the heat, and levitating the burning hot iron cauldron and having it tip its contents over a strainer, I collected the potion into a wide glass beaker. The potion was perfectly clear like water, though it smelled like a combination of vanilla, warm pine needles, and freshly ploughed earth. Wiping the silver dagger on my sleeve and spraying it with alcohol to sterilize it, I dragged the blade lightly across the tip of my left ring-finger; any area that drew blood would have sufficed, but I was feeling symbolic. I winced slightly at the pain, but held my finger over the potion and squeezed out a few drops of blood. Dragging my cut finger across the palm of my other hand, I healed it instantly then sat down at the table with my face level with the potion. I closed my eyes and counted out the longest sixty seconds of my life. When I reached one minute, I counted another thirty seconds just to be sure, then I opened my eyes. I had to blink a few times before I really took in what I saw: The clear potion had turned a bright powder blue.

I was pregnant with Severus' son.


	34. Chapter Thirty Four: SEVERUS

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

_Severus_

Because there were no windows in the tomb by which I could gauge the passing of the hours, I'm not sure exactly how long I was able to hold out before my first lapse in concentration. The Revenant had been able to glean my father's voice from that one, as well as learn my name. However, I knew that I was still relatively safe if the Revenant continued to believe the sight of my father walking around once more was the most disturbing image for me; he had not yet discovered Avrille.

The second attack proved to be far more damaging than the first. I had been struggling vainly against the seductive lull of sleep, my mind slowly misting over in grey. Only the constant sight of the demon pacing back and forth in front of me kept me from forgetting why I was struggling so hard to keep my mind clenched tighter than a vice. Unfortunately, my eyes closed inadvertently for just a moment, a blink that lasted a few too many seconds, and the Revenant struck again. This time, instead of extracting an image to be used against me, it attacked my mental barriers from the inside out, causing me to feel faint for a good thirty seconds until I could muster my concentration once more and force the invader out.

My stomach felt as though it were trying to gnaw itself into shreds. It was impossible not to think of all of the meals I was missing at the castle. I was so desperate to relieve the hunger pains that I gorged myself on too much water and vomited it straight back up, tainting the small water pool until it could drain itself out. The Revenant watched all of this with a pleased and amused smirk on its face, uncannily mimicking my father's mannerisms of when he had been feeling particularly vicious.

Seconds that felt like minutes and hours that felt like years trudged slowly on. I surmised I must have been in the tomb for over twenty-four hours now, though there was no way I could really tell. I tried counting the time, but my muddled head lost track somewhere in the ten-thousands. To keep myself occupied, I mentally recited poetry and potions formulas. A headache that far surpassed the one created by the Death Wish in brain-numbing agony had long since taken up residence behind my eyes. As my head nodded slowly, my chin hitting my breastbone jarring me back into reality, I wondered if the headache was from sleep deprivation or if the Revenant was subtly pressing his powers into me.

Deep down I had known it to be inevitable, but when I finally lost consciousness, my mental scream of frustrated rage pushed the Revenant back for a few moments. However, as I slipped into oblivion, it delved ravenously into my most horrible memories…

_"Where is she?" my father roared, cuffing me behind the ear hard enough to send my seven-year-old body tumbling to the floor._

_ "I don't know!" I replied hoarsely. My throat was raw from crying. I had seen Mother take the carriage and leave the house after midnight, when she thought I was asleep. It was now morning. I knew she would be back eventually, but why had she left me behind?_

_ My father grabbed a fistful of my collar and yanked me back upright. He held his face an inch away from mine as he pulled me up so high I had to stand on my toes. His breath reeked of stale whiskey and his hair hung madly into bloodshot eyes._

_ "You'd better hope she's back before nightfall, you little bastard!" he hissed, though I far preferred his screaming. He threw me back down roughly onto the stone floor of the kitchen, making me scrape the skin off of my knees. My father stormed from the room, grabbing his money pouch on his way out. He was on his way to the "whorehouse." I didn't know what that meant, but that's what I had heard the servants whisper when they thought I was in another room._

_ It was a few days later. I hadn't gone downstairs for the whole time, a servant thankfully bringing my meals to me in my bedroom. The days hadn't passed too badly… My cuts and bruises were almost all healed, and I had spent many hours reading on my bed while my kitten, Plum, purred at my feet. Plum had wandered into the garden a few weeks ago. Mr Flyte, the gardener, was going to feed her rat poison since he said once you got one cat, they all started crawling out of the woodwork. So I had hidden Plum in my jacket and brought her into my room. She was brown with black stripes on her sides like fish bones, and still not fully grown yet. I fed her on scraps of food that I secreted into my pockets at the dinner table. My father, being badly allergic to cats, had been sneezing constantly and blaming the spring weather. Every time he sneezed, I had to force myself not to laugh._

_ Mother returned in the afternoon. I heard the rattle of the carriage wheels on the gravel driveway, and after giving Mother a half-hour to come in and get settled, I ran downstairs with Plum hidden in my jacket once more. I knew Mother would be sad now that she was home, and I thought sharing Plum with her might cheer her up. But as I crept down the last two steps, I heard Father had gotten to her first._

_ "Where were you?" I heard him command icily from the direction of the formal sitting room. Like rats scurrying away at the first sign of a leaking hull, the servants all hurried to make themselves busy in other parts of the house._

_ "Please, Septimus, don't be angry. My nerves needed a rest," was Mother's quiet reply. I could hear her voice was trembling already, a bad sign. When she cried, it just made Father angrier. I snuck across the front hall, unable to stop myself from wanting to know where Mother had gone as well. Plum was starting to grow anxious, so I took her out of my jacket and held her tightly in my arms._

_ My father dropped into a harsh whisper that was actually louder than his normal speaking voice. "Do you know how it makes me look when I can't even locate my own wife? People will say, if I can't control _her_, how can I be expected to control the entire firm?"_

_ "I find it hard to believe that I am the worst threat to your honour," Mother said coldly. "I found something beside the bed as I was putting away my things." Peeking through the crack in the door, I saw her pull from her pocket something black and lacy. "One of your tarts must have forgotten it." She threw it at my father's feet in disgust._

_ "How dare you?" he thundered and slapped her brutally across the face, splitting her lip open. Mother turned and fled through the door leading to the dining room, tears shining in her eyes as she held a hand to her bleeding mouth. Father stalked towards where I was standing just outside the hall door so quickly that I dropped Plum in surprise. As Father flung the door open the rest of the way, he stepped on Plum's tail, making her screech in pain. My father, already furious, pulled out his wand in a flash and shot a curse of bright green light at Plum, who was streaking towards the kitchens in fear. The spell caught her mid-leap, and she slid a few feet, then didn't move. Placing his wand back into his coat pocket my father turned to me and slapped me across the face like he had Mother._

_ "I said no bloody pets! Get rid of that!" He stormed out the front door._

_ My cheek stinging, I ran over to Plum as soon as I was sure I could hear my father's footsteps moving away. Her soft fur was still warm, but no matter how lovingly I stroked it, she wouldn't purr for me. I tried all of the healing spells I had read about, but I hadn't started school yet, so they didn't work. I buried her that night in a far corner of the garden where Mr Flyte never went._

_"Severus… Severus, wake up… You need to wake up now…"_

I thought I heard my mother's gentle voice speak through the painful thoughts the Revenant was forcing me to relive. My consciousness stirred, and I forced myself awake once more. However, it took all of my strength to simply keep my eyes open. My mind felt naked and vulnerable without my walls protecting it. The Revenant was still taking the form of my father, and he was leaning over me as I lay slumped against the hard granite wall. Taking my face between its hands, it said, "That was good, but I'm sure we can do better…"

_It was graduation day at Hogwarts. After the ceremony, Lily came running up to me and threw her arms around me excitedly._

_ "Severus! You'll never guess what happened! James asked me to marry him yesterday!" she exclaimed, her face glowing with joy._

_ "What?" I said harshly, taking her arms in my hands to pull her off of me. "How can you be serious? I'd hoped that once we graduated you'd grow up and break it off with that bastard."_

_ Lily's face fell instantly, and I hated myself for saying that, but I was sick of pretending to not mind her constantly draping herself over Potter like a love-sick idiot whenever he was around._

_ "I… I know you don't like James… but if you would just give him a chance…" Her green eyes looked at me in a pleading, wounded way that reminded me of my mother's just before my father would hit her. The hurt tears in Lily's eyes, that she would be begging me for _his_ sake, just made me even more angry._

_ "Give him a chance? What the _hell_ do you think I've been doing for the past seven years? Last term when he stole all of my textbooks and had a nice bonfire by the lake with his mate Black, the only reason I didn't jinx the conceited git's precious hair off was because I knew how much you liked him." I crossed my arms and looked away from her, back towards the front of the castle, trying to take deep breaths and not completely lose my temper. My father had been most displeased when I had had to write to him last term and ask for money to replace those books before exams started._

Why_ could Lily not see Potter's faults? They were so obvious to everyone else! He was arrogant, stuck-up, thought he was God's gift to the school… Not to mention Carrington had informed me that he saw Potter with his tongue down Penny Jones' throat last month behind the hothouses. _

"_Well _maybe_ if you had ever bothered to try and hang out with _us_ instead of those Slytherin creeps, he might not have picked on you so much," Lily said icily._

_My anger having reached the boiling point, I replied with deadly calm, "Well, I think it's obvious you don't need me anymore now that you have darling James. Don't bother inviting me to the wedding." I turned and stormed away from her._

_Those were the last words I ever said to her in person._

_I was sitting behind the staff table at my first Halloween feast as Hogwarts' new Potions master. I wished I could have skived out on it since the last thing I felt like was piles of candy and cake, but Dumbledore had asked me especially to attend since he had some other matters to take care of that night. I was itching to go out and try to make contact with Lucius Malfoy. The Dark Lord was growing more and more obsessive with his search for Lily's son, and I was sure I could get Lucius to tell me some new details that I could then pass on to the Order._

_Suddenly, half-way through the massive desserts course, the Dark Mark on my arm burned like it was on fire for the briefest of moments before the pain dulled into a pulsing throb. The pain had been so unexpected and so intense that I had drawn a sharp intake of breath, making Minerva glance at me concernedly. I knew it had not been the same sensation as when the Dark Lord summoned us Death Eaters, so I decided to wait until the feast was over so as to not raise suspicion with a sudden exit. As soon as I was able, I dashed out into the hallway and pulled up my sleeve. The Dark Mark, outlined in red as opposed to its normal black, was fading back into my skin._

_Not knowing what to make of it, I ran up the stairs to Dumbledore's office and burst in without even knocking. Dumbledore was just dropping a long travelling cloak onto his desk and turned to me slowly as I stood before him, wordlessly holding my forearm out for him to see. Dumbledore sighed heavily and surprised me by placing an arm gently around my shoulders._

"_Severus… Something has happened…" he said sadly as he led me toward a chair in front of his desk…_

"_Severus… You have to wake up! You need to stay strong for me, my darling. You can't give up now!"_

Once again I could have sworn I heard my mother's voice calling out to me, summoning me back into the present. However, this time I wasn't even able to open my eyes before waves of sorrow, pain, and regret pulled me back under.


	35. Chapter Thirty Five: AVRILLE

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

_Avrille_

The fact that I now knew myself to be pregnant didn't change much for me. I was very aware I simply did not have time to dwell on the fact when Severus was somewhere in need of my help. As I did a quick clean-up of the Pregnancy Potion, I shook my head at myself, remembering how my mom had told me during "the talk" as a teenager how it was possible to get pregnant your first time. I had rolled my eyes at her at the time, thinking how could anyone be _so_ irresponsible! I stopped shelving herbs for a moment and placed a hand over my stomach. A fluttering there, which I obviously knew was simply nerves, brought a giddy smile to my face. But then remembering I was in the middle of a mission, I closed up the classroom then ran at full speed back to Severus' rooms. There were still those folders of papers from the safe I needed to go through, something in there hopefully giving me the location of Severus' mother's house, and it was already well past lunchtime.

Even though the last thing I felt like doing was eating, I ordered some food sent down to me in Severus' parlour and sat on the couch flipping through the papers with one hand while I forced down a sandwich with the other. I remembered Severus mentioning after Christmas that he owned his childhood home, so I thought it was likely it would be the same house his mother had been in during my vision. Big houses like that tended to stay within one family. Being very careful not to drip mustard on the table, I scanned every single piece of paper, looking for an address that wasn't Severus' at Hogwarts. I was pretty sure I would need something concrete like an address to be able to try to Apparate there; having a quick glimpse of the place in my dream didn't give me enough of a feel for its location to really focus on.

The first folder ended up being completely filled with copies of Severus' grade transcripts from his two schools, his exams results, and a copy of his Black Arts Thesis from the Academia; all really interesting stuff but not very useful at the moment. The other folder provided me with much more personal information. It contained all of his family records, like both his and his mother's birth certificates. Unfortunately, neither of these provided an address. Underneath those was a marriage certificate stating Charlotte Odessa Greyadder espoused a Septimus Xavier Snape on June 2, 1957. Well, at least Severus' father had a name now as well.

Further on, there were death certificates for both of his parents. Septimus Snape had only lived a year and a half longer than his wife, and there was no cause of death noted, which I found strange. Underneath Severus' father's death certificate, I finally found something: the deed to a house.

There were two copies of the deed, one on ancient yellowed parchment that looked about to crumble and another, newer transcription. I carefully placed the original deed back down and studied the other. It was for a property called Greyadder House, which I figured was the one I needed since that was the same as Charlotte's maiden name. The acreage of the property seemed vast, which also fit since the house in my vision had seemed a veritable mansion. But most importantly, the deed listed an address; it was in Hampshire county, a mile outside of the Muggle village Puddingbrook. Dropping the deed back onto the table, I hurried over to one of the bookcases and pulled out a large atlas. Flipping through the pages, I finally found a map of the county and, to further cement in my mind that this was the place to go, I saw Severus had marked a small dot just south of Puddingbrook Village.

Well, it was by no means certain that this was the place Charlotte had told me to find last night, but it was a start. After taking a few minutes to clear up the important papers and locking them once more in the safe, I returned to my own rooms to pack a small bag. It was already the afternoon, and it was likely going to take me quite some time to reach the house and investigate. I packed a change of Muggle clothes, some biscuits and tea for a snack, thinking I could just Conjure a kettle from the castle should one not present itself where I was going, as well as some Muggle money I still had left over from my plane trip here in the summer. Since the house was only a mile or so from the Muggle village, I might be able to go there if I needed something else. Into a secure pocket I slipped two of the photographs of Charlotte: the one of her sketching from my vision as well as the one of her on the swing. You could see the exterior of the house in the background of the latter, so I could use it to make sure I was in the right place when I arrived. With optimistic hope, I also took Severus' wand with me, assuming if he had been at all able to, he would have come back for it a long time ago.

I dressed in layers since I had no idea what the weather was going to be like where I was going. Before I left I gave Caligula an extra-long hug and made sure both his food and water dishes were practically overflowing; not that he would know how to budget his food, of course. I bet that if I came back an hour later, it would all be gone anyway, but I was sure Pinky wouldn't let him starve. Slinging my bag over my shoulder, I triple checked that I had both wands before stepping into the fireplace and taking the Floo to the Shrieking Shack.

Not wanting to try to Apparate from that creepy place, I did a short-distance Apparation to the bottom of the hill instead. The air outside was warm and fragrant with the gentle perfume of springtime flower buds. It was a welcome change from the cold dungeon air I had been breathing constantly for the past few days. I took a few moments to inhale deeply and cleanse my lungs. Then, gripping my bag even more tightly, I closed my eyes and focused on the address of Greyadder House. I concentrated deeply on what it had felt like in my vision, what the exterior looked like in the photograph, and its location on the map in relation to where I was in Hogsmeade, hoping that these were all indeed the same place. With another deep breath, I thought of Severus and how desperate I was to see him, telling my magic that in order to find him, I had to first make it to this other location. With all of those thoughts stewing together in my brain, I turned quickly and tried to Apparate.

It's hard to explain exactly what happened next. I knew immediately that something had gone wrong since I was thrown backwards onto the cold, pine needle-covered ground of the forest I had been trying to leave. The force of the impact knocked all of the air out of my lungs, and for those first few seconds the only thing on my mind was trying to gulp oxygen back into my body as quickly as possible. Once I could draw breath once more, I stayed prostrate on the hard earth and tried to find a reason for what had just happened. It was strange, but though my Apparation had been unsuccessful, it's failure resulted in solidifying my belief that this house was the place I needed to find.

For one, in the nanosecond before I was tossed painfully back to Hogsmeade, I had caught the quickest glimpse of a sprawling grey stone manor house on top of a faraway hill. That house looked at a glance just like the house in the background of the picture of Charlotte on her swing. However, I knew I had barely enough time for my brain to register that it _was_ a house I was looking at, so I couldn't be sure it was a definite match. No, what had really cemented my resolve was the _magic_ I had felt shove me back through the void. My entire body was still stinging from its power, and my emotions felt raw from it, too. There was no doubt that whatever spell protected the property from Apparation, Severus had set it himself. The sensation that had jarred me away made me almost want to cry; I felt like Severus had slapped me.

But I forced the tears back down, focusing instead on the fact that, though his repellent magic had been hurtful, it was still _his,_ meaning that house _was_ the place I needed to go. The only problem now was actually _getting_ to it. I jumped up, brushed the forest debris from my clothing, and closed my eyes again. I concentrated once again on everything I had the first time, but nudged the Apparation spell a little more northwards, toward the village. Hoping not only would this work, but also that I wouldn't appear in the middle of some Muggle family's backyard, I spun around and vanished from the spot.

This time I Apparated with no problem. It took me a few moments to catch my breath, since I was still recovering from the last failed attempt and now had the discomfort of _this_ Apparation compounded on top of that. My ears buzzed like an entire colony of bees had taken up residence, and my fingers and toes still tingled a little from the residual effects of Severus' repulsion spell. Once I was fully recovered, I took a good look around at where I had managed to end up.

I was on an overgrown dirt path running up a long hill. The overview in front of me showed a large, busting Muggle town in the distance, which I assumed was the village of Puddingbrook. Looking up the hill, the afternoon sun was to my right, making that the correct direction in which to head to find the house. Hitching my bag into a more comfortable position on my shoulder, I began the slow trudge up the weedy path.

After a minute or so of walking, I turned a bend and entered a more heavily forested area. As soon as I passed beneath the first intertwining pine boughs, I felt the trace of a prickly spell designed to gently steer Muggles away from the area. It seemed to have worked because the path, wide enough to have once accommodated the two-way traffic of carriages, was even more wild and bushy up here than back down where I had first Apparated. The dry earth still bore the deep scars of long-ago wheel ruts, but these were barely visible under the litter of sticks, fallen pine branches, and a thick mat of decomposing leaves. I was glad I had worn durable pants and sturdy boots because the tangle of dead boughs and thorny vines seemed just as insistent on keeping me out as the slowly strengthening magical charms.

About fifteen minutes of steady climbing later, I emerged from the trees into a vast, wide open space, the descending sun blindingly bright over the tops of the trees I had just left behind. I stopped and took in the view, which was stunning. Much farther away on the hill and just barely visible was the large stone house I had glimpsed before. Expansive lawns, slightly ragged with new spring growth, stretched languidly from the house down to a set of tall iron gates a few hundred feet up the path from me. I began to move slowly forward, expecting at any instant Severus' spell to stop me in my tracks.

I made it three-quarters of the way to the gate before I was jarred to a sudden halt as I hit the barrier. It wasn't nearly as bad as when I had tried to Apparate in, and I didn't fall over, but it was like I had walked straight into an invisible stone wall. Again I felt the hurtful sensation of Severus' magic rejecting my presence, but I tried to not take it personally and focus instead on breaching this obstacle.

Dropping my bag at my feet, I pulled out my wand and gently prodded the space in front of me. The spell bristled and held firm, but didn't overtly repulse me away. I reached out slowly with my right hand and pressed it against the blockage while I closed my eyes and tried to read the spell with my wand in my other hand. Severus' signature magic was the foremost contributor to the spell, but I could also sense old, mostly faded, magics of the past. It seemed to me the original spell protecting the property had been set centuries ago, and Severus had simply been reinforcing it as the years progressed. The unfortunate thing was that, though there were many other contributors to the spell, Severus was by far the most powerful. If he had simply relied on the magic of his ancestors, then I could have easily broken though in a matter of seconds. That meant that the only thing standing between me and the gate was Severus' power alone.

As it was, I knew this was going to take some time to sort out. On a positive note, because I was almost as used to Severus' magic as my own, I knew I could eventually unravel the barrier. However, I was worried I might be simply wasting my time here when I should be putting my efforts into something else entirely. But I had no other leads to follow, so I put my faith in my vision of Charlotte and began to slowly pull threads of Severus' magic loose from the tightly woven barrier, one strand at a time.


	36. Chapter Thirty Six: SEVERUS

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

_Severus_

_I saw Avrille sitting in a chair in the room above the tavern of the Hog's Head, Lucius Malfoy slowly leaning into her and bringing his lips within a hair's breadth of hers. I mentally scoffed at the Revenant for thinking this would upset me. After all, I knew that in a moment Avrille would fight off the Imperius curse and give Lucius a taste of her own powers. Yes, any second now…_

_ But instead, I saw Avrille thread her fingers through Lucius' sleek blonde hair and press her mouth hungrily against his._

_ No, this is not what happened… _I told myself.

_ Are you sure? _The Revenant goaded me, gleefully,_ This is what you feared happened… How can you be sure she didn't lie to you?_

_ Avrille stood up suddenly and wrapped her arms around Lucius, tipping her head back, her hair cascading backwards, so Lucius run his lips over her neck. He slid effortlessly out of his business robes, and, as he pressed her forcefully against him, Avrille made to hurriedly rid him of his expensively tailored waistcoat and silk shirt as well. After running her fingertips down Lucius' bare chest, Avrille took him by the hand and led him slowly to the bed in the far corner of the room…_

_ No! _I inwardly screamed._ She would not have done this!_

_ I heard the Revenant's rattling, hissing laugh as it forced me to watch their passionate coupling._

_ Suddenly it was weeks later. I was seated with Avrille on the sofa in my parlour. In her hair Avrille still wore the lacquered combs I had presented her earlier that day for Christmas. She held my hand tightly in hers as I refused to even meet her eyes, afraid of what I would see there after I uttered my next sentence._

"_I... used to be a Death Eater."_

_I knew what had happened next: Avrille had accepted the shames of my past without question and reassured me of her continuing love._

_But… certainly she had not pulled her hand away suddenly?_

_I looked up to the sight of tears running down her face, normally so fair and pale, now coloured with angry red blotches._

"_Why did you never tell me this?" she exclaimed, holding her hand protectively in the other as though mine had contaminated it with some disease. "You've been lying to me all this time!"_

"_No!" I hurried to explain myself. "I didn't lie… I just didn't know you well enough to reveal my past yet. But, I'm not that man anymore, I've changed!" I reached to take her into my arms. I knew that with my touch I could convince her of my sincerest remorse._

_Avrille jumped up and backed away from me slightly, her whole body shaking with rage. "You willingly entered into the service of the Dark Lord, became one of his most trusted followers! It was because of him that my father was murdered and my life torn apart!"_

"_Avrille, please!" I begged, standing up as well to place my hands on her shoulders. Somehow I had to make her see reason…_

"_Get away from me!" Avrille screamed and slapped me across the face. "You're evil! I never want to see you again!"_

_She ran from the room crying and slammed the door behind her like a clap of judgmental thunder._

_I quickly ran to the door to go after her, but upon passing through it, I found I was walking through the door into the formal sitting room of my childhood home. Though I felt like I was my current age, I saw my mother sitting on a sofa next to Avrille, who was smiling brightly. I thought she must have come back to forgive me._

"_Severus, there you are!" my mother said, holding out a hand towards me. I walked over and took it, unable to believe that I was somehow here with the two women I loved most in the world, at the same time. "Avrille has the most wonderful news to tell you!" Mother turned to look expectantly at her._

_Avrille stared up at me, her eyes shining with joy, and announced, "James Potter asked me to marry him yesterday!"_

"_No," I murmured. "That isn't right… Lily married James…"_

_Avrille's face turned stormy. "How can you say such a thing, Severus, when you know perfectly well James and I have been madly in love since we first saw each other?"_

"_Really, you do say the strangest things," Mother added, taking my hand and patting it in a concerned fashion._

_Pulling my hand free, I fell to my knees before Avrille. "But, _I_ love you… and you told me you loved me as well."_

_Avrille threw her beautiful head back and laughed derisively. "Love _you_? How could I ever love a Death Eater? James is an Auror and risks his life daily to put scum like you away where you can't hurt anyone. James is more of a man than you could _ever_ hope to be. You, who sneak around behind everyone's back, saying that you're doing it for the Order of the Phoenix, when everyone knows it's only because you're too much of a coward to join them openly! You're just waiting to see what side wins so you can cast your lot in with them at the end!"_

"_That's not true!" I said, my voice rising even though I was trying desperately to control myself. Avrille knew me, she knew that wasn't the truth… How could she say these things to me?_

"_Yes, it is, Severus. You know perfectly well all of this is true. You really expected me to fall in love with _you_ instead? That's just so pathetic!" Avrille continued to laugh and my mother joined in with her. Unable to stand their cruelty, I stalked out of the parlour and down the corridor. However, my progress was blocked by an enormous shadow that stepped out of another room into my path._

"_Severus!" my father roared. "Look what you have done!" He grabbed me by my collar and flung me into the room he had just exited. In the centre of it, on a table, my mother lay dead, dressed in black and holding a single white lily in her cold, clasped hands._

"_But, she was fine just a moment ago…" I muttered._

"_This is your doing! You left her behind when you went to Rome to pursue your own selfish desires. If you had stayed behind and done your duty as a son, this never could have happened!" My father threw me to the floor and kicked me roughly in the ribs. Looking up through streaming eyes, I saw that the figure on the table had turned into Lily Evans, her long red hair hanging off of the edge and dripping blood into a round, crimson pool on the wooden floor…_

"_Severus… you must stay strong. Avrille is coming for you. You must believe in her, Severus!"_

My mother's voice cut gently into the torturous visions like a white clipper ship through pure blue ocean waves. But how could she be talking to me when I had just seen her dead in front of me? And Avrille… Avrille hated me now. No one was coming for me. I was utterly alone.


	37. Chapter Thirty Seven: AVRILLE

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

_Avrille_

It took me hours to unravel the spell in front of the gate enough for me to be able to slip through. The sun had already sunk beneath the trees, and the first stars of twilight were blinking to life when I finally forced the heavy gate open. Dark rust flaked loose and stained my hands as I pushed the iron bars across the gravel of the driveway. Once through, I fell exhausted against the inside of the gate and slid down onto my knees. I fetched my water bottle out of my bag and took a few much-needed swigs, wishing I had filled the bottle with something more invigorating like cola or iced coffee. Severus had certainly done his best to keep people away from his home, and I just hoped that it hadn't cost both of us too much time.

I allowed myself to sit for five minutes against the gate to recover a bit of stamina, letting the evening breeze calm my mind as it played through my hair. The air here smelt thick and salty. I wondered if it would be possible to view the sea from the top of the hill. As I sipped my water, I stared up at Greyadder House. The only light up on the hill came from the crescent moon which was beginning its slow ascent up the heavens. It seemed likely the house was deserted. If someone still lived there, they probably would have felt me deactivating the protective spells and stopped me before now.

Shadows were already stealing down the hill towards me, so once I was standing again, I pulled out my wand and set it alight so I wouldn't trip on the rough rocks of the driveway. The driveway was longer than it had seemed from the base of the hill, and it took me several minutes to actually reach the house. Once there I took a moment to catch my breath and take in the towering edifice in front of me before stepping between the thick columns of the sprawling porch. I grabbed hold of the massive silver knocker, and I let it drop twice. I waited for a full minute, even though I did not expect anyone to answer. When this proved to be true, I tried the handle and was surprised to find the door unlocked, though I suppose Severus probably didn't see the need after setting that monster of a spell to protect the perimeter of the property.

The door creaked open in a rather cliché way, though it didn't slam shut behind me after I entered; I had to close it myself. The light of my wand was instantly lost in the encompassing blackness of the grand foyer, so I increased the power until I had a beam of thick white light to examine my surroundings. Where I found myself now was a large, empty stone hallway. A set of magnificent stairs ran up to a second storey in front of me, and to my right and left were open double doors that led off into distant corridors. Remembering the direction I had walked in my dream, I set off down the right hand corridor into the east wing of the house.

A quick inspection of all of the rooms behind the closed doors I passed showed the house to be practically empty. When I had come this way in my dream, the house had been completely filled with expensive pieces of artwork and sumptuous furniture, but now all of that was gone. Rectangular discoloured patches on the peeling, cream-painted walls convinced me I was in the same place. However, the difference was startling given that it had only been forty years since the time the photo in the conservatory had been taken and now. Along with the paintings, all of the delicate figurines and tables that had once lined the halls had vanished. In what rooms had furniture, it was sparse and covered with dusty sheets. I pulled off each sheet I came to and inspected what lay beneath, opening all of the drawers I could find in hopes of discovering some sort of clue. All of the windows I passed were shuttered tightly and most had the remains of curtains pulled across as far as they would stretch. The air barely seemed to move around me, and it smelled stale and musty. It didn't seem like anyone, even Severus, had been here for years.

At the end of the twisting hallways, I came to the familiar set of French doors, though the once shining golden trim was cracked and dull in my wand-light. I opened them to reveal what had once been the conservatory, though it was even more ravaged than the rest of the place. Faint beams of starlight shining through the dusty glass ceiling panes illuminated a single chair laying discarded on its back beside the white iron table. Only a few plants remained of the lush jungle I had glimpsed in my dream, and these were just dead brown stalks in broken clay pots that bled dry soil. I walked over to the table and stood behind it at the place where I had sat drinking tea with Charlotte. The table's glass top had been shattered, and bits of it crunched beneath my boots. The conservatory was completely empty and devoid of any clues. If Charlotte was somehow waiting for me, this did not seem to be the right place.

I explored the other downstairs wing of the house and found the cavernous kitchens and laundry rooms. At the opposite end of the house from the conservatory, I discovered the remains of a once magnificent library, now containing only two cracked leather arm chairs and rows of lonely, forgotten books which seemed to shiver hopefully as the light of my wand passed across their spines. Large sections of shelves were bare, maybe because Severus had moved those books to his rooms at Hogwarts. On the mantel of the library's fireplace, I found an old, carved box containing some Floo powder. Maybe I would be able to use that later to return to the castle.

Upstairs proved to be just as barren and lifeless. Down the east wing were numerous empty bedrooms, probably for guests, though the only indication of their purpose was an empty bed frame here or a single old wardrobe there. The first door on the right down the west wing opened into what I guessed had once been Severus' bedroom. The room felt slightly more lived-in than the others I had come across, and if I really concentrated, I could almost taste a hint of his magic on the air, though it felt undeveloped and raw. This room at least still had its necessary furnishings, though all other decorative comforts had been stripped giving it a gloomy, Spartan look. A low, child-sized bookcase held numerous volumes on beginner's magic that looked as though they had never been opened. The reason for this I discovered when I glanced under the bed and pulled out a box which held dozens of books on advanced potion-brewing and the Dark Arts. One book in particular, called _Defensive Curses to Thwart Your Worst Enemies, _had been read so often that the spine had cracked in two, and a dozen pages fell to the floor when I opened it.

I couldn't imagine anyone being a child in this house, let alone my beloved Severus, though it did help to explain his sullen looks in his childhood photographs, and also why he had looked so happy in that picture at Hogwarts. Greyadder House had seemed pleasant enough in my vision, when Charlotte had been young here, but a great change had taken place since that time. The wallpaper of Severus' room was streaked with water stains, as if the room itself were crying. It was obvious that people had existed here, but none of the rooms felt like they had been truly _lived_ in for decades.

Leaving Severus' old room behind, I walked further along the hallway until I came to a massive set of doors at the end that seemed to suggest a master bedroom. I cautiously gripped both door handles and pushed inwards. The second I stepped over the threshold the hair on my arms bristled as I was met with a hint of that same unnatural feeling which had been in Severus' bedroom the morning he disappeared. Though the room looked innocent enough, containing a large stripped-down bed and several bureaus and wardrobes, I could tell instantly that something evil had happened in here. The malignant edge to thewrongness was far more pronounced in this place than when I had felt it at the castle. If Severus' room had felt like _this_ that morning a few days ago, I would probably have gone instantly to see the headmaster about it.

As it stood I was here completely alone with this old, residual magic that set my teeth on edge. I quickly cast the same Purifying Charm as I had in Severus' bedroom, and that helped to alleviate the discomfort somewhat. However, I knew it would take some intensive spellwork to completely cleanse this room enough for it to be habitable once more. I walked through the room inspecting every surface I could see. The room held a large walk-in closet as well as a ladies' vanity and private bathroom. During my turn through the space, I noticed that the area around the bed held a much thicker concentration of whatever the wrongness was, and I decided it had likely originated from there. Unable to find anything concrete at all, I left the room and closed the doors behind me, immensely relived to be out of that atmosphere.

As far as I could tell, I had now wandered throughout the entire house without finding anything that would suggest where Severus had gone to. In my vision Charlotte had said, "Come see me," but the conservatory had yielded nothing, and I didn't know where else she could have meant. Returning to the ground floor, I dropped down onto a sheet-covered couch and pulled out the two photographs I had brought with me. I looked at them in the wand-light, Charlotte's timeless face smiling up at me as though silently encouraging me to keep searching. Well, since I had found nothing in the conservatory where one picture was shot, I thought I might go look around the grounds and try to find the location of the swing in the other one.

I left my bag behind on the couch, hoping I would recall later which of the numerous indistinctive rooms it was in, and walked back out into the night. Using the angle of the house in the background of the photo as a reference, I set out to a far corner of the park. The moon had now risen high above the trees and lit up the abandoned estate from its perch in the cloudless sky. Glancing at my watch, I saw it was already nearing eleven o'clock. The house had taken hours to search, and I still had nothing to show for it.

A few minutes' walk took me to the very edge of the lawn where it met the thick wall of forest. A bit away on its own stood a single enormous chestnut tree that looked similar to the one in the photograph from which the swing had hung. Though the swing was long gone, squinting at the tree, still a good distance away, I saw something had been added at the trunk's base. Once I had walked closer, I made it out to be a circular area of raised earth, wreathed with sleepily drooping daffodils. Behind the flowers, set against the bark of the tree, was a small stone monument. I stepped carefully around the flowers and shined my wand upon the monument's grey-veined, white marble face. It read, in a beautiful, delicately engraved script:

_Charlotte Odessa Snape_

_b. May 15, 1938_

_d. December 23, 1980_

_Most Beloved of Mothers_

I dropped to my knees beside the headstone and ran a hand gently over its smooth top to brush off a few dead leaves. I had finally found Charlotte, though she was in no position to help me. I remember Severus had left the castle for a time right before Christmas, and I wondered if it had been here he had come to. I lovingly traced a finger over the etched inscription, tears of frustration and exhaustion falling from my eyelashes into my lap as I read it once more.

"I'm here, Charlotte. I've come to see you… but I don't know what else to do now," I whispered at the stone.

A sudden flicker of movement out of the corner of my eye snapped my focus up to the tree once more. Perhaps it was a trick of the moonlight off of the white marble, but I could have sworn I had just glanced a silvery figure dart behind the thick tree trunk. I jumped up and ran around to the tree's other side, but found nothing except old sticks and half-rotten chestnuts. My shoulders sagging with disappointment, I continued around back to the grave-side once more.

However, when I came back to the headstone, I noticed a disturbance in the flowers. I was absolutely positive I hadn't stepped on any, and I hadn't even been on that side of the grave at all. Moving carefully closer, I bent down to examine the ground. Four daffodils had been pressed flat against the earth, two in a straight line of each other and two more meeting at that line's head. If I squinted my eyes, it _almost _looked like a crude arrow…

Shrugging and realizing I hadn't investigated that half of the park yet anyway, I set off in the general direction in which the flower arrow seemed to point. This way brought me behind the house, yet at more of an angle so I was slowly moving away from the dark walls and down the other side of the hill into a shallow valley. Since I had been in the house, thick patches of clouds had accumulated in the sky above and a cold sea breeze blew a cluster across the moon, shadowing me in sudden darkness. I took out my wand and lit up the tip once more, keeping the beam a few feet ahead of me so I wouldn't stumble upon any night-roving animals.

The temperature seemed to drop a few degrees as I strode down the hill, as is only to be expected in a shallow basin such as the one I was descending into, but the sudden appearance of swirling mist congealing my wand-light gave me a few extra shivers. I pulled my coat more tightly closed against me as my cheeks and bare hands grew damp from the fine mist my passing kicked up off of the dewy ground. I was so focused on not slipping on the treacherously slick grass, that only the sight of my light illuminating a large, square-cut stone of dark granite a few feet in front of me alerted me to the fact I had entered an entirely new area.

I looked up and raised my wand above my head, increasing the brightness of the light. Through the fog I could make out numerous tall, blocky shapes a few hundred feet ahead of me. It looked like I had stumbled into some sort of stone village. I cautiously approached the nearest stone building until I was close enough to see that it had a door upon which words were etched, the growth of moss inside the letters making them slightly easier to make out. The door read in a chunky, gothic scroll, "_Gervase Kincaid Greyadder. 1795." _Beneath the name and date, a pair of crossed wands were carved over a grinning, winged death's-head. Apparently I had found the family graveyard, though that term didn't really cover the scope of the place.

Before me lay rows of mausoleums, over two-dozen as far as I could tell from my wand-light. I was not normally scared of graveyards in general, but this place, with the rivers of mist flowing down paths of looming crypts topped with the remains of tumbled angels, instantly gave me the creeps. I wished that the moon would hurry up and come back out, but then even in the daylight this place would seem haunted. Besides all of the tombs and statues, the air itself felt Dark and foreboding.

Not seeing what could be gained by investigating this area, I turned right around on my heel and started to walk back up the hill when another something glittered just to the right of where my peripheral vision ended. I spun around just in time to see a glimmering figure dart behind the crypt of old-man Gervase. Now, just because I was used to seeing ghosts all of the time floating around Hogwarts, that didn't mean I was comfortable with them, especially out here in the middle of nowhere on the edge of numerous creepy tombs. I almost high-tailed it straight out of there when a flicker of pure emotion seemed to brush against my heart. It felt of endless sorrow and desperate beseeching. It was at complete odds with that strange, sinister feeling I had experienced closer to the tombs. Hoping I wouldn't seriously regret it, I turned back around and walked over to where I had seen the shimmer disappear.

I had just shone my wand behind the first tomb, where the figure should have been, when I saw it again, darting a little way farther in. I quickly hurried after it, setting the light of my wand as bright as it would go without blinding me. The skeletal remains of rose bushes snagged my coat as I wound my way around several tombs. I tore around the bend where the figure had shone and caught a glimpse of it for an instant before it flickered out into darkness again. The apparition was a beautiful woman with glimmering silvery hair that had flowed down her back to seamlessly fuse into flowing robes that swirled around her body. I held my breath, waiting for the woman to pop up again, wondering if she really had looked like Charlotte or if I was just imagining the resemblance in my desperation.

There, again, I saw the glimmer of silver light behind one of the furthest away tombs. I ran full speed at it and came near to running straight through it in my surprise when I saw it was not going to disappear again. I skidded to an ungainly halt, slipping on the wet grass and falling painfully on my rear-end. The feeling of Dark Magic was even more pronounced here, and it was only the gentle glow of the woman's light that kept me from bolting straight back to the house. As I cautiously glanced up at the face of the transparent silvery woman, I could have almost sworn the tiniest smile twitched across her lips before they returned to their solemn straight line.

I scrambled back onto my feet and took in the apparition before me. She was incredibly pale, even less substantial than a ghost, as though she was on her last ounce of strength. Though she appeared to be noticeably older than the girl in my vision, I was convinced they were the same person.

"Are you Charlotte?" I asked in awe.

The woman did not answer, and her face showed no emotion. Instead, she held the sliver of a pale finger to her lips before backing soundlessly into the sealed tomb before me. I quickly ran after her but my outstretched hands met only with solid granite. I pounded on the stone in frustration, then took a step back to see whose tomb it was. This solid door was only inscribed with a name and no ornamentation at all. It read simply: "_Septimus Snape_."

The vision of Severus' mother had led me from her grave to that of Severus' father… but why?

Once more I pressed against the tomb door, but it was cemented firmly shut and would not budge. I made a circuit around the large granite block, shining my wand from ground to roof, but everything was sealed tight. Charlotte had disappeared through the wall as though she wanted me to follow her… but there was no way in.

I returned to the front of the tomb and tossed my wand back and forth in my hands while biting my lip. The growing feeling that I was _supposed_ to enter the grave battled against my aversion to committing holy sacrilege. The vision of Charlotte was not reappearing, though I didn't know if that was permission for me to vandalize her husband's tomb. Finally deciding whatever damage I did to the place I could probably easily fix afterwards, I took a good ten paces back then pointed my wand at the tomb's door. I sent an explosive charge at the stone which broke apart with a thunderous crash. Once the dust and mist cleared, I could see that I had blasted an opening in the door large enough for me to squeeze through. Forcing myself to take a few deep breaths, I gathered up my courage and slowly slid through the roughly hewn hole.

The inside of the structure was pitch black with no sign of Charlotte's silvery glow. I lit the end of my wand once more so I wouldn't trip. It was a good thing I did so, because just one step past the doorway was a long flight of stone steps that would have been extremely painful to fall down. Keeping my light firmly set on the ground in front of me, rather scared that I might illuminate a dead body or something, I crept down the numerous stairs one by one. With each step I took down into the silent earth, the temperature seemed to drop lower and lower while the feeling of evil rose up to meet me.

Once at the bottom, I knew I would have to take a look around, so I let the light of my wand wander up to the ceiling, which when I was above ground had been slightly higher than eye-level to me but was now dozens of feet over my head. The air was stale and felt rank with the unknown sinister presence. All I heard was the almost indiscernible dripping of water from somewhere deeper in the tomb.

I took a few steps forward and forced myself to take in all of my surroundings. In the center of the room was a marble box, probably Septimus Snape's coffin, though a shattered piece of marble on the ground made it look like it had been opened. As I moved closer, morbid curiosity seeming to insist I look inside the gaping coffin, my wand shone for an instant off of something behind the coffin's marble dais. My heart thundered its way up into my throat as upon closer inspection I saw that the gleam had been from a leather boot. Gripping my wand so tightly I felt I might accidentally snap it in two, I inched closer to the boot, sure that I was about to see the remains of a decayed corpse. However, what I saw instead made me drop my wand to the granite floor.

Severus was laying on his stomach before me.

I hastily scrambled to pick up my wand and dropped down beside his still form. With fingers shaking uncontrollably from sheer terror, I felt for a pulse on his neck. I let out a shuddering breath when I felt a faint throbbing beneath my two fingers and hurried to turn Severus over so I could examine him. I raised my wand and tapped Severus with it once to lighten his dead weight. Once he was flipped over, I released him from the spell and gently moved his head onto my lap. Still unable to breathe regularly from shock, I studied him with the light of my wand resting beside us on the ground.

Severus was wearing his pyjama bottoms from the other night, and he had wrapped the rest of his nakedness up in a thick linen cloth; I didn't even want to think about where he had gotten the boots from. His face was gaunt and haggard, the lower half shadowed with several days' worth of beard stubble. His hair lay matted in clumps against his forehead, which shone with pearls of sweat as though he were in the grips of a fever, even though to the touch his skin was frightfully cool and clammy. Beneath his tightly shut eyelids, I could see his eyes darting back and forth endlessly, and his jaw was clenched and unyielding beneath my fingers. I quickly stripped off my long jacket and, tossing aside the suspicious white fabric, wrapped Severus up in it as tightly as it would reach.

"Severus," I whispered, kissing his tense, cold lips, "Severus, it's me… Please wake up…" I patted his cheek gently with the pads of my fingers, but that seemed to only agitate him further. He let out a quiet moan, and his head thrashed back and forth a few times before settling still once more on my lap.

"Severus," I called, more loudly. "Can you hear me?" I took his limp hand in mine, my mind whirling with panicked thoughts of what I should do next. He was obviously gravely ill, and I didn't know what would be the best course of action.

As I was considering whether or not I had broken the spell protecting the property enough to allow me to Apparate out of here with him, Severus suddenly clamped down with his grip on my hand so tightly that I gasped in pain.

"Don't… Don't come any closer…" he murmured, though laboriously as if uttering each word caused him excruciating pain.

"Severus, it's me!" I repeated desperately, cradling his head in the crook of my arm.

Suddenly he roared, "Keep away from her!" and I almost let his head fall from my lap in surprise.

I picked up my wand and was just about to try to magically restore Severus to consciousness when I felt the tingle of Darkness, which had been around us the entire time, swell and increase in strength. I brightened my magical light to the point where I could see the complete interior of the tomb. As soon as the grip of night fell away, I was startled to see that Severus and I were not alone in the tomb; there was a figure standing slouched in the corner, and it certainly was not the spirit of Charlotte.

For a moment I thought I was hallucinating and seeing double. At first glance the figure seemed a doppelganger of Severus, the black hair falling into his face only partially obscuring a very familiar profile. But then the figure straightened up, and I could tell he was markedly different. For one, he was shorter and slightly stockier than Severus. Also, his hair was significantly longer, falling to his bicep while Severus' only brushed his shoulders. And though, when he looked at me, the other man had a similar facial structure as Severus, his eyes burned with a malignant gleam that made him absolutely terrifying to behold.

Tightening my grip on my wand, I asked tonelessly, "Who are you."

The man took a single step forward and stood with his arms crossed. He was dressed in a slightly old-fashioned set of business robes which he wore as though they were made of the finest silk and ermine.

"You people are so keen on asking that first, aren't you? Well, if you wish to know, for the moment I am Septimus Snape," he man replied with a hint of amusement.

"Septimus Snape is dead," I said. "This is his tomb."

"Well it was, but I'm afraid I've rather commandeered it from him to suit my own needs. To be honest I don't think he even ever noticed." The man took another single step towards me. I gently placed Severus' head back on the ground and stood up with my wand raised, effectively blocking Severus behind my firmly planted feet.

"What have you done to Severus?" I demanded.

The man smiled. "Only what shall be done to you shortly. If you would care to lower your wand and be patient, you can find out for yourself."

"Like _hell _I will!" I yelled and mentally cast a protective charm around Severus. The man took another two steps forward. He was only a dozen feet away from us now.

"Stay where you are unless you want to find yourself in several messy pieces. I have some questions for you," I said, pointing my wand straight at his chest.

"No," the man said pleasantly, "I have the pleasure of asking the questions around here, and what I want to know is: _what memory gives you the most pain, Avrille_?"

His sudden utterance of my name momentarily distracted me, and he took advantage of my surprise to attack my thoughts which had inadvertently recalled the day of my father's murder. Within moments I was able to recall Severus' teachings and force the intruder out, but the strength required to expel him from my head was so great that I collapsed to my knees besides Severus' limp form.

When I looked up, I felt the blood drain from my face; looking down at me with an expression of angry disappointment was my father.

"You… you're a Revenant, aren't you?" I managed to stutter out.

"No, Avrille," the Revenant replied sharply, "I'm your father, and you've been a _very bad girl_." Its tone was so spot on with how my father used to sound when I had disobeyed him that I felt the sudden urge to crawl up into a ball and cry. My arms trembling in fear, I raised my wand once more, knowing it was only the sight of the slender piece of wood that was keeping the Revenant at bay.

I felt myself start to hyperventilate as I was hit with the full realization that Severus had been trapped with this monster for untold hours. Guilt as heavy as lead piled on top of me as I remembered all of the time I had whittled away the past few days, simply hanging around waiting for Severus to come back, when he had been sealed in his father's tomb, probably believing he was going to die. Why hadn't I told Professor Dumbledore of my worries immediately? What did it matter that Severus might lose his job for sleeping with me when his very _life_ was at stake?

My pain and guilt were so tangible that the Revenant seemed able to feed off of them without even entering my thoughts, but I couldn't stop myself.

"Yes, everything is just all your fault, isn't it, my dear?" the Revenant crooned, almost tenderly. "You did nothing while poor Severus suffered, just as how you did nothing the day that I died. You could have told someone, but you refused to. If you hadn't been so weak, you could have made a difference."

"No, that's not true," I said through choking tears, but I had a hard time believing my own words. Wasn't that what I had thought all along? That if I hadn't been so scared of punishment, I could have told someone about my visions, and my father might still be alive today? I felt the Revenant snake out more tendrils of doubt, fear, and guilt. He wrapped them around me like fine gauze scarves and allowed their subtle power to weigh me down.

"That's it, Avrille, _feel_ the pain that you have caused others…" the Revenant said. I could feel it gathering its strength again for another assault on my mind. Without being able to seemingly stop myself, I watched in horror as my hand holding my wand slowly began to drop lower.

But just then a faint touch caught my notice. Severus had draped a hand over my ankle. Since the Revenant's attention was, for the moment, focused on me, Severus had managed to break through its power enough to open his eyes half-way, and I saw his lips trying to shape my name. Seeing him semi-conscious sent a wave of joy so pure through me that I felt the Revenant bristle backwards uncomfortably. I ran a hand over Severus' cheek and found he had warmed slightly. My tears dripped onto his haunted face as his eyes fluttered shut once more. Inside of me I felt a cauldron of sheer fury begin to boil. Severus had been completely alone while this monstrosity preyed on him. Well, he wasn't alone anymore. He had me and the tiny spark of life that was our unborn son with him now, and I would be damned if some jumped up ghoul tried to have its way with him again!

Thinking I was completely distracted with Severus, the Revenant struck out once more to invade my memories for more fodder. This time, however, I was more than ready for it. The second I felt its disgusting presence within a metre of me, I spun back toward it and threw up a shield around Severus' and my thoughts so intense that the Revenant actually stumbled backwards on the impact of my resistance to it. It made the handsome face of my father twist into an ugly scowl before turning around on the spot to reappear as Septimus Snape again, probably being more comfortable with the shape it had been taking for the last couple days.

"How dare you try to challenge me, you weak little girl-child?" the Revenant spat, its black hair hanging madly over its wild eyes.

The Revenant swelled, splitting the form of Severus' father in two then absorbing it as it grew to enormous proportions. It tried to suck up the light of my wand into its opaque blackness, but I simply increased the output of the light's power so it could not use the shadows of the room to add to its bulk.

_I have roamed this earth for three hundred years_, the Revenant roared in tones that sounded like rocks sliding off the face of a mountain, _and this man whom you seem to care so pathetically much about is nothing compared to the kings and enchanters I have consumed._

"Really? How profoundly interesting," I replied, with as much sarcasm and disdain I could muster. I think Severus would have been quite proud of me.

This just infuriated the Revenant further, and its pulsating black form sparked with bits of lightning the colour of midnight. However, I knew that all of this was just for show. Without the pain and suffering of Severus or myself to feed off of, this was all that it could do. Rather annoyed with all the melodrama, I flicked my wand and forced the Revenant to resume the shape of Septimus.

"How _dare _you!" it screamed, but I could hear the faintest tremble of doubt in its voice. I stared at it unblinking, refusing to take its bait. Severus was in need of my care, and I was growing tired of this game.

The Revenant took my pause for hesitation and slid effortlessly once more back into the form of my father.

"Avrille," it murmured lovingly, "Don't you want to be with me again? Just put down your wand, and we shall never be apart!" It crept slowly toward me with a hopeful smile on its face.

The sight of my father once more sent my boiling anger surging through my body, every nerve ending in my skin tingling with barely held back power. Who was _it_ to think that I would risk the welfare of my baby and my baby's father for a moment of happy illusion? I braced my feet firmly against the granite floor and held my wand out in front of me with both hands clasped around it tightly.

"_Don't fuck with me_," I whispered icily.

The Revenant had only one moment to raise its eyebrows in surprise before I loosed my fury straight at it in a single, searing ray of fire. It exploded into countless specks of black light which swam in front of my eyes for a moment before being sucked into the vacuous void with a deafening crack. All that was left behind was complete silence. It was over.

With a shuddering sigh, I filled the tomb with the closest thing to a cheerful light I could create and knelt back down beside Severus. Now that he was free from the Revenant's grip, he had calmed and seemed to be quietly sleeping. Not wanting him to have to wake up in such a terrible place, I cast a Weightlessness Charm upon him so I could gently gather him up and guide his feather-light body back up the stairs of the tomb and into the quiet night.

Now that I knew most of the danger had passed, I thought it best for Severus to regain some strength before trying to return to the castle. Therefore I brought him back into the house and laid him down upon one of the beds in the servants' quarters behind the kitchens. I figured after all that he had relived, he would want to wake up in a place that held no memories for him.

After casting a light sleeping charm on Severus to ensure that he rested for the remainder of the night, I went into one of the bathrooms to see if the plumbing was still intact. Fortunately it was, and after a few minutes of flushing old slime and cobwebs from the pipes, I was able to collect a bowlful of clean water. This I heated with my wand then brought it and a bar of soap into the room where Severus slept. As gently as I could, I washed the dirt and sweat from his body and face, then ran a hand over his jaw to magically remove his beard stubble. Except for a slight hollowness in his cheeks from going without food for days, he looked almost healthy once more. His skin had warmed up, and his cheeks were beginning to show a hint of colour.

Next, I Conjured two pillows and the down blanket off of my bed in the castle, hoping that Caligula had not by some chance been sleeping on it and been completely freaked out as it disappeared from under him. I carefully lifted Severus' head and slid a pillow beneath it, tossing the other next to him, and wrapped him up tightly in the blanket. I also Conjured for him a set of clean clothes for the morning and a Nourishment Potion which I knew he had in his medicine cabinet. A trickle of the potion between his parted lips would at least help his body to begin to return to normal until he was able to eat something solid.

I myself was ravenous from all of the magic I had performed, but I made do with the biscuits I had brought and a cup of hot tea. Puddingbrook had not looked like the type of place to have twenty-four hour mini-marts, so I resigned myself to wait until the morning to fetch provisions. As I sipped my tea, I silently watched Severus sleeping peacefully, a thick ray of moonlight shining through the bare window making his skin look like alabaster. When I was done with my tea, I stripped out of my outer layers and crawled into bed next to my fiancé. I can't pretend I didn't feel the tiniest bit of worry that he would somehow be missing in the morning, but nevertheless, after a while of listening to Severus' deep breathing, I fell asleep.

The cruelly bright sunshine forced my eyes open much earlier than I would have liked, but I decided to be forgiving since it lit up the room to show that Severus was still sleeping peacefully beside me. I sat up and stretched, my spine feeling like a few vertebrae had slipped out of place from laying on the old, lumpy mattress. After freshening up a bit in the bathroom and changing into my other set of clothes, I pulled a chair up to the bedside. As I raised my wand to release Severus from the sleeping spell, I found myself hesitating. Though I wanted more than anything to see him awake once more, I was worried about what damage the Revenant might have inflicted on his mind. Finally, after a good five minutes of delaying, I flicked my wand to dissolve the charm. I then ran my fingers lightly through Severus' hair to gently bring him into consciousness.

Severus opened his eyes slowly, and for an instant I thought everything was fine. He looked up at the ceiling, adjusting his focus in the bright sunshine, then turned to look at my face. When he saw me he started, grabbed the wrist of my hand that was stroking his hair tightly, and gasped with his eyes wide and mad-looking, "The Revenant… in the tomb…"

"It's gone, Severus. I destroyed it. You're safe with me now," I said soothingly and gently removed his clenched fingers from my wrist.

However the terror etched on Severus' face did not fade, and he whispered in the tones of a lost boy which broke my heart, "But… how do I know that you're real?" His grey eyes shone with both hope and the self-protectiveness of a wounded animal.

Instead of delving into a long explanation of what exactly had happened in the tomb, I leaned over and kissed him long and tenderly, his lips only hesitating for a moment before softening and yielding to mine. The kiss lasted rather longer than I had meant it to, and I couldn't help a flicker of arousal stirring as he held my face gently between his palms.

When Severus released my lips he looked me deeply in the eyes, still holding my face inches away from his own, and asked quietly, "You're not hurt?"

"No," I reassured him. "I'm absolutely fine."

Severus sighed with relief and allowed me to drop my forehead onto his chest. "Where are we?" he asked wearily. I sat back up once more and held his hand in both of mine.

"In your mother's house. I didn't want to move you back to the castle yet." Severus nodded, staring blankly at the peeling plaster ceiling.

"And what day is it?"

"Friday. It's been days since you disappeared. I…" I stopped, the familiar ball of guilt lodging itself in my throat. I forced the tears back by sheer force of will. Severus had enough to deal with at the moment without having to worry about me because I was crying.

"I'm sorry that I didn't come sooner," was all that I finally said.

Severus shook his head, finally glancing back over at me with a faint smile. "No, the fault of this whole mess is entirely my own. I should have told you everything right from the start, and I don't think I'll ever be able to forgive myself for putting you through this."

Then, with his gaze fixed on the ceiling once more, Severus recounted to me all of the details of his past that he had, until now, kept hidden. He talked about growing up in this house, and how brutal his father had been. He told me how, when he went away to school at Hogwarts, he was so happy there compared to at home that he decided as a mere boy he wanted to teach there for the rest of his life so he never had to leave. He told me more about Lily Potter, and the falling out they had had before her death. Finally he arrived at the part I had been most curious to know about, which was why he had disappeared in the first place.

I could tell that it was difficult for Severus to have to remember once more his father placing the Death Wish curse on him, but I was still glad that he told me. However, as I listened to the details of his father's final evening, I decided that as soon as I could get away from Severus for a minute, I was going back down to the tomb and utterly demolish it on top of that bastard's remains.

When Severus finally got to the end of that tale, and how exactly his father had cursed him, I saw, for the first time since I met him, tears glimmering on the edges of Severus' eyes.

"He didn't want me to have children…" Severus whispered, a single tear breaking free and rolling down the side of his face to disappear into his hair.

Realizing that my own time of revelation had come, I moved to sit next to Severus on the bed and said quietly, "He failed in that respect."

Severus scoffed, closed his eyes and said, "Yes, but only because you managed to get to me before it was too late."

"No, what I mean is, even if…" I still found the words hard to say, though Severus was perfectly safe now, "…even if I had never found you… He still failed…"

Severus' eyes flashed open, and he scrambled to sit up in the bed. Reaching forward to touch my shoulder he said, "You mean… Are you…?"

I nodded, ducking my head as tears of my own broke free. "I did a test yesterday. It's a boy."

Severus grabbed me and pulled me tightly against him. "I don't believe it…" he murmured. "I mean, it was only one time and… I just simply don't believe it…"

Just as suddenly as he had grabbed me, he pushed me away slightly so he could look straight into my eyes. "And… you're happy about it?" As if I could even deny it when he was looking at me with those pleading eyes.

"Of course!" I said, laughing. However, Severus was still looking a little concerned.

"It's just… If we have a baby now, you won't be able to start teaching like you wanted to."

I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him reassuringly. "I can just as well teach once he's a little older. This baby apparently couldn't wait to be born, and I'm not about to stop him."

Severus gathered me up into his arms once more, breathing a quiet sigh of relief. "I don't believe it," he repeated once more. "I'm going to be a father…"

After another moment of holding me, he said into my ear, "I'm going to have to tell Dumbledore about all of this." With another sigh he fell back against the pillow once more, and I laid down beside him with my cheek on his shoulder. Severus fingered my hair absentmindedly as he thought.

"Once you give birth, it will be obvious that your conception date was during the school year. There's really no way now for you to continue your apprenticeship with me."

"I know," I replied. "I already assumed that, but I don't mind. At least, assuming Professor Dumbledore doesn't kick me out of the school, I can finish up with Professor Sprout."

"I'll talk to Dumbledore once we get back. I'm sure he'll understand."

Just then our stomachs both rumbled simultaneously. Severus looked down at me and said, "You need to eat something. It's important for you to keep your strength up now."

I sat up and stretched. "I was thinking of walking down to the village to buy some things to eat. I think you should rest for the remainder of the day, so we'll need something for lunch as well."

"Let me go instead," Severus said, holding me back and trying to rise himself. "You really shouldn't walk that far in your condition."

Oh boy. He was going to be one of _those _expectant fathers…

"Severus," I said, trying to keep from laughing, and pushing him back down onto the bed, "I'm _four days_ pregnant. I don't think you need to start thinking like that for another good eight months or so."

"No," I said, standing up and pulling the blanket back over Severus' bare chest, "_You _are the one who needs rest after what you've been through."

"I'm perfectly fine," Severus replied huffily, crossing his arms petulantly over the blanket.

I shook my head and crossed my arms as well. "_You_ didn't see what you looked like when I found you last night. I insist that you stay in bed at least until the evening."

Sitting down on the floor to tie my boots and make sure I had my wallet I said, "Right beside you there's a Nourishment Potion you should drink right away. That will get you through until I return with something to eat. I also drew a hot bath for you in the next room, if you want. You have my permission to get up for at least that. I also Conjured some fresh clothes for you." I pointed to where they lay on a rickety bureau.

"You know, if you joined me in the bath, I'm sure it would help me to feel _much_ better…" Severus said with a devilish smile and folding his hands behind his head.

I stood, raising an eyebrow as I looked down at him. "Apparently you _are_ feeling better already," I said wryly, brushing the dust off of my pants. "I should be back in an hour." With that I turned and left him behind before he could start to really lay the charm on thick.

Before I left the house, I cast quick spells on all of the doors leading outside to keep them securely locked. I suppose I was rather paranoid after what I had gone through the night before, but I wasn't taking any chances until I had Severus safely back at the castle. The walk down to the village didn't take quite as long as I thought it would. Fortunately, I quickly located a small grocers where I bought two loaves of freshly baked bread, some delicious-smelling cheese, and some bananas and grapes for breakfast. I also picked up some canned soups and some fresh tea bags, knowing that a good, hot cup of English tea was going to be the first thing Severus would want as soon as I returned. Lugging the heavy plastics bags, I trekked back up the hill toward the house until I was far enough away from the village to send the food along to the kitchens ahead of me. Without being weighed down with groceries, I jogged back up the hill and managed to get back within the time I had promised.

Severus had bathed and dressed in my absence so, after hitting the old dishes in the cupboard with a few cleansing charms, I prepared a simple but delicious breakfast for the two of us. Severus was so hungry I had to remind him to eat extra slowly so that his stomach would have a chance to get used to having food in it after such a long time of starving. After breakfast we laid together on the bed, and I recounted to Severus my half of the week. He was, of course, most interested in my vision of his mother and asked me to retell it several times before he was satisfied. For myself I didn't ask anything about what had gone on in the tomb between him and the Revenant, and for the moment Severus seemed alright with dealing with it on his own. He did mention, however, how at several different times, he had heard his mother's voice speak in his mind, encouraging him to keep fighting until I arrived. I listened silently as he talked about that, wishing with all of my heart that there was some way I could repay her for protecting Severus even after her death. But I was sure, at the very least, I would tell our son every single day how much his grandmother loved him.

After laying together for a little while longer, Severus grew rather feisty and would not stop trying to undress me. I finally gave in, figuring at the very least he would have one good memory of the house now, and we made love tenderly under the soft down comforter. Afterwards, I held Severus tightly against me as he slept some more, knowing that he was safe now but still not wanting to take any risks. At least I knew that if anything happened, the tomb was now open and Severus could simply walk out. But all of my worrying ended up being for nothing, and when Severus awoke two hours later, starving for another meal, I knew everything was back to normal.

Since Severus had demonstrated quite effectively earlier in the day how well his strength was returning to him, I figured he was healthy enough to go back to the castle. He told me he could easily create a one-time link from the fireplace in the living room to his own rooms at the castle. After Vanishing all of my belongings back to where they had come from, I left Severus for a few minutes while he crouched in front of the fireplace setting up the spell. I walked quickly out a back door of the house and down to where the mortuaries were located. Though the setting sun was bright and cheerful, the place still obviously boded ill with me, so I made my business short.

I blasted the hell out of Septimus Snape's tomb.

If Severus had heard the noise, he didn't comment on it when I re-joined him in the living room. He had finished the Floo linkage, so with a few flashes of Floo powder, we were back once more in the castle as though nothing at all had happened.


	38. Chapter Thirty Eight: SEVERUS

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

_Severus_

After Avrille rescued me from my father's tomb, my foremost concern had been what damage the Revenant had inflicted on my feelings for her. Indeed, it did take a little while at first to be able to look at her without displaced feelings of rejection and resentment mingling with my joy. But as soon as we had made love that first afternoon, and I was surrounded once more with the gentle acceptance of her magic, in that respect I was completely healed. As for the other things I had gone through, I knew it was going to take time to completely sort out my emotions and rebuild the mental walls the Revenant had stripped away. However, I also knew Avrille would be beside me through it all, supporting me and guiding me as my soon-to-be wife and mother to our son.

The day after Avrille and I returned to the castle, most of my fellow staff members greeted me when they saw me as though I had never been away. The few who remarked on my absence did so in a way where I could tell it was only my reappearance that triggered their realisation I had been gone in the first place. However, none of this bothered me, and I simply explained to those who asked that I had been ill for the past few days and had confined myself to my rooms, a story Avrille and I had agreed on before we parted to go to breakfast our separate ways. Though I was going to speak to Dumbledore soon about Avrille's relationship with me, I was still adamant that news of it not spread until school recessed and we were legally married. Therefore, though Avrille insisted she was not going to ever return to her own rooms to sleep at night, she still had to take the Floo back there before meals to make it at least look like she was.

I knew that my speaking to Dumbledore could not wait, so at lunch on Saturday I requested an appointment with him for that evening. Avrille had asked me if she should accompany me to this meeting, but I assured her that, since technically I was still her supervisor, what we had done was my responsibility and therefore my job to explain to Dumbledore. So after dinner I followed the headmaster up the numerous staircases to his office, completely unable to picture what his reaction was going to be as soon as I told him not only was I romantically involved with my apprentice, but also that, within the course of a few days, I had impregnated her, proposed to her, and had my life saved by her.

As soon as we arrived in his office, Dumbledore surprised me by ushering me into one of the comfortable armchairs by the fireplace instead of in front of his desk. He then left me there as he made himself busy at a small sideboard across the room.

"I usually indulge in a small brandy after dinner. Would you care to join me, Severus?" Dumbledore asked pleasantly. I gratefully accepted, knowing I would probably need it in the coming minutes. Though, after seeing first-hand what it had done to my father, I usually avoided alcohol besides wine, I was fully aware of what phenomenal medicinal properties a simple glass of brandy held.

Handing me my drink, Dumbledore sagged into a chair beside me with his own glass and stretched his long legs out in front of him to warm by the fire. I found that my mouth had suddenly grown dry, so I took a small sip of brandy.

"I'm afraid this is not a social call, Headmaster," I began, setting my glass on a small decorative table beside me.

"Oh, I assumed that, Severus, but one can't be so formal all of the time," Dumbledore replied with a smile. I just hoped he would remain so genial throughout the conversation.

"There have been some developments in the past few months that I was reluctant to bring to your attention, but I find myself in a position now where I can no longer proceed without your knowledge of them."

I paused and looked to Dumbledore for a reaction. He simply sat, smiling at me slightly, waiting for me to continue. I took a deep breath.

"I… That is, we…" I bit my lip, furious at myself for stammering. I had never been so nervous before the headmaster before. Keeping my focus firmly on the glowing embers in front of me, I decided to simply go for it.

"Mistress Asphodel and I are going to be married."

My attention was brought back quickly to Dumbledore as I heard him chuckle quietly. I looked over to see him shaking a good-natured finger in my direction.

"I was wondering whether or not you would tell me before the school year ended," he said.

"You mean, you knew?"

"Oh yes," Dumbledore replied with a solemn nod. "I've known for quite some time."

I suddenly grew panicky with thoughts of the other teachers on break in the staffroom discussing Avrille and me like they did Quidditch scores and happy recollections of their holidays.

Dumbledore seemed to sense my worry for he quickly added, "Rest assured, I have spoken of my suspicions to no one and, as far as I know, no one else in the castle has guessed that Avrille and yourself have anything more than a completely professional relationship. I think Pomona might be a tad suspicious, since she spends a great deal of time with Avrille as well, but no rumours have come to my attention."

I must have visibly relaxed for Dumbledore chuckled again.

"Sir, may I ask how you found out?"

Dumbledore raised a bushy white eyebrow as he looked over his half-moon spectacles at me. "Severus, I have known you since you were a boy. I knew because in all of the time we have spent in each other's presence, I have _never_ seen you look at a woman the way that you looked at Avrille."

I felt my cheeks tinge with embarrassment so I took a sip of brandy to hide it. Dumbledore allowed me a moment to compose myself before asking, "Please forgive me for inquiring, but I was just curious if you two revealed your feelings for each other around Christmas time?"

My head shot up over my glass. "How did you know?"

Dumbledore laughed again, slapping his knee. "Because that was when you _stopped_ looking at her!" he replied with a smile, shaking his crooked finger at me once more.

I smiled as well, then decided I might as well tell the rest of it.

"Avrille's pregnant with my child," I said quietly.

"Oh dear," Dumbledore replied in good humour.

I waited for an admonishment, but when none came I asked, "You're not upset?"

Dumbledore sighed. "Though some would undoubtedly view what you have done as inappropriate, it's my opinion that Avrille and you are both consenting adults and what you do in your own time is none of my business. I know that love cannot be bound by mundane restrictions such as school terms and, for my part, I would take having a little more love in the world over whatever society deems as being 'appropriate.'"

I nodded. That had been, of course, what I'd hoped would be Dumbledore's view on the matter, but it greatly put my mind at ease to know that my actions with Avrille hadn't somehow disappointed him or tainted his opinion of me.

"Now that you know the reasons why, I must ask that I be removed from the position of Avrille's supervisor and also to request respectfully that Avrille be allowed to continue her Herbology apprenticeship."

Dumbledore thought silently for a minute, finishing his own brandy. He finally said, "I agree that it is impossible for Avrille to finish her apprenticeship with you, but I do not think the Ministry's Educational Board will find any fault with her concluding her apprenticeship with Pomona. If they have any qualms, I will certainly set their minds at ease."

"Thank you very much, sir," I said, greatly relieved Avrille would not be forced to leave the castle.

"Is there anything else, then?" Dumbledore asked.

"Yes, actually, there is…"

I wasn't sure exactly why I felt like I had to tell Dumbledore about the Death Wish, but nevertheless I recounted all the details for him. Perhaps it was simply because Dumbledore was the closest thing to a true father figure I had ever had in my life, and I felt like I had been deceiving him all of these years by not revealing my curse to him. I also knew that I had to talk to someone about what had happened in the tomb, and I simply couldn't with Avrille. She had already been through so much; I couldn't stand to hurt her more with all of the details.

Dumbledore listened quietly to my story, nodding his head occasionally, but never interrupting. When I was finished he said, "Though I am deeply sorry you did not feel comfortable enough before now to tell me this, I understand completely why you did not. Also, I must say in all honesty that I do not know if I could have helped you at all even if you _had_ told me. The nature of the curse seemed to be such that it would not be satisfied unless it was enacted, and fortunately, that has now happened without any severe, long-term damage. However, I implore you to _please_ come to me in the future if anything of this nature arises again, or if you feel any lingering after-effects of what you experienced this week."

"Of course," I said. I felt like I had shed fifty pounds by telling everything to Dumbledore. It had felt the same when I told Avrille long before that I had been a Death Eater, and she had _not_ hated me for it.

"That's all I had to tell you, Headmaster."

"Very well then, if that's all, then I must insist you indulge me in one more drink as a celebratory toast." Dumbledore Summoned the brandy decanter briskly over and refilled my glass before I could protest. Holding up his own fresh drink, Dumbledore said, "To the health of Avrille and the baby she carries, and to you, Severus: I'm sure it will be many a year before Hogwarts employs a more excellent father." Dumbledore downed his drink in a single, impressive shot, and I followed suit, rather embarrassed by Dumbledore's heartfelt sentiments.

"Well, that's that. I shall perhaps see you at breakfast tomorrow," Dumbledore said, smacking his lips, to dismiss me. I stood, gave a small bow of gratitude, then walked toward the door. However, Dumbledore's voice calling my name stopped me just before I opened it.

"Yes, sir?" I asked, turning back toward the fire. Dumbledore was standing with his back to me, his hands clasped behind him.

"I have let you go, Professor, without any disciplinary action for your involvement with your apprentice. However, I shall be forced to take measures if I am not invited to the wedding!" Dumbledore then turned to me so I could see he was smiling.

"Of course, sir," I said, telling my heart it was all right to settle down after all.

Dumbledore waved a hand vaguely in my direction and said, "Off you go. Don't want to keep Avrille waiting, now."

Feeling myself flush again, I gave one more curt bow before hurrying from the room, the sound of Dumbledore's amused chuckle silenced as I pulled the heavy oak door closed behind me.

As the headmaster had guessed, Avrille was indeed waiting for me as I entered my rooms, the brandy making the atmosphere seem rather warmer and fuzzier than I expected it truly was.

Avrille was sitting on the sofa, playing a game of chess against herself, and looked up expectantly as I walked toward her.

"How was it?" she asked. I collapsed on the sofa beside her and squeezed the bridge of my nose between my thumb and forefinger to try and relieve the rest of the tension that Dumbledore's kind words and brandy had not quite dissolved.

"It went fine," I replied quickly, seeing Avrille's nervous expression. She let out an audible sigh of relief then gently guided me down so I could rest my head on her lap. "Dumbledore approved you to complete your apprenticeship with Professor Sprout."

Avrille nodded, and I closed my eyes, relishing the sensation of her fingers on my scalp as she smoothed back my hair, something that helped to relax me far quicker than an entire cabinet of spirits could ever hope to manage.

"And you told him everything? About the baby, too?"

"Yes," I said, without opening my eyes. "He seemed rather excited about it, actually. As far as I know, Dumbledore never had any children of his own and therefore no grandchildren. I think he's looking forward to it quite as much as we are."

Avrille laughed quietly, then we were silent for a few minutes. I was just considering whether or not I could drop off to sleep when Avrille remarked, "Your face is still too thin. You barely ate anything at dinner…" Avrille broke off from stroking my hair to run a finger down my cheeks, which were still rather gaunt from not eating for several days.

"I was just nervous about meeting with the headmaster," I replied. "I'll get something more to eat a little later."

I turned my face away from her, the light of the fire behind my eyelids turning my vision dull red. I don't know why doubts were still plaguing me, why I could not be simply happy. It just seemed almost impossible how everything had worked out so perfectly. My curse was gone without any lasting effects, Avrille and I were going to be married, the headmaster approved, and I was soon going to be a father. But that last thought… It was still bothering me.

"Severus, what's wrong?" Avrille asked quietly, once again making me wonder if she was powerful enough to actually read my mind.

"Why do you ask?" I turned my head back to look up at her, trying to cover with a smile how she had unnerved me.

"Because you've hardly said anything to me this evening, and you keep sighing like you think the end of the world is coming tomorrow."

I sighed, again I suppose, and sat up. It was no good; Avrille knew me too well now for me to pretend everything was fine when I was around her. I also knew that if I wanted to be a good husband to her, I had to get used to talking about my feelings so she wouldn't misunderstand me.

I stalled, examining my nails with my elbows resting on my knees. "Dumbledore said that I will be an excellent father," I said finally.

"And of course you will be," Avrille said, wrapping her arm around my waist and resting her chin on my shoulder, "though it was very nice of him to say so."

"Yes, it was." I folded my hands together and dropped my head down, my hair falling forward to completely conceal my face. I had been confronted and tortured with all of my worst memories by the Revenant, the only lucky part of the experience being that, at the time, I had not yet learned of Avrille's pregnancy. If that monster had had access to my worst fear concerning my son, I don't know if I could have survived it.

"Is that what's upsetting you?" Avrille asked gently, pulling a section of my hair back so she could see my profile. "That Professor Dumbledore said you'll be a good father?"

"Yes, and that you agree with him so readily," I forced out between gritted teeth. I turned my head so I could look deep into Avrille's brown eyes, open wide with concern. "I mean, how do you _know_? How can both of you be so _sure_? Look at the example I had growing up; how can you be sure that I won't end up hurting our son like my father hurt me?"

Avrille took her face between my hands and asked seriously, "Do you think it was a good thing when your father used to hit you and your mother?"

"Of course not!" I replied furiously. I tried to pull my face away from her hands but she held me fast.

"Then you have _nothing_ to worry about. You _know_ how it felt to be abused and unloved. You _know_ that what your father did was wrong. You used the hurts of your past as an example of how _not_ to behave, and you became so much stronger because of it. You are not a drunkard, and you have never hurt me. You are _not_ your father."

"And believe me," Avrille added with a small smile, "I would have never put myself in a situation where I could potentially become pregnant if there was any doubt in my mind that you were the best man in the entire world to father my child."

I smiled as well, and Avrille pulled me tightly to her. I buried my face in her neck and successfully willed back tears of sheer gratefulness for Avrille's unbreakable faith in me. As I pulled my beloved Avrille closer, I swore that every day I lived from now on, I would strive to better deserve her love.


	39. Epilogue: AVRILLE

EPILOGUE

_Avrille_

After I quit my apprenticeship with Severus, the rest of the school year passed torturously slow. Though I was slightly sad to have to give up my degree in Potions instruction, it was a little easier to simply focus on my Herbology work and not have to pretend to be "normal" around Severus in class. Even though I was no longer his apprentice, I ended up seeing more of Severus than I had in the past since I now slept with him in his rooms every night, only returning to my own to change clothes and exit into the rest of the castle. I moved Caligula into the dungeons with me permanently as well, telling him that if he so much as unsheathed a claw anywhere away from his scratching post, he would find himself bald for the rest of his life. This he accepted grudgingly, and Severus' valuable possessions were spared. As for Caligula himself, he resentfully tolerated Severus, but let him know that _he_ was still the alpha male with every strutting pass he made around the parlour.

Though for Severus and me things were practically perfect at first, trouble soon descended on the school once more. Right after the students returned from their Easter break, Hermione Granger and Penelope Clearwater were both petrified when the attacks around the school unfortunately resumed. That night Professor Dumbledore was forced to step aside as headmaster by an order from the school governors, though Severus commented he was sure Lucius Malfoy had forced their acquiescence to suit his own agenda. And as if that wasn't horrible enough, Hagrid was actually arrested and brought to Azkaban on the charge of being the one who released Slytherin's monster. Severus explained to me later that night that when the Chamber of Secrets had been opened fifty years ago, Hagrid had been blamed then as well and expelled. The boy who had supposedly caught him was Tom Riddle, who later became the Dark Lord himself. Though it was obvious to anyone with half a brain that Hagrid had been framed before, he had never been formally exonerated and thus was forced to be the Ministry's scapegoat in this time of trouble. I hoped with all of my heart that the real perpetrator would soon be caught, and we could have both Hagrid and Professor Dumbledore back with us once more.

The rest of April and May passed edgily, every day bringing the fear that perhaps today would be the time that someone was actually killed. Our worst fears were almost brought into reality when the monster of Slytherin snatched little Ginny Weasley and stole her away into the so-called Chamber of Secrets. Ginny's disappearance sombrely capped an otherwise wonderful day; that morning I had assisted Professor Sprout as she harvested the mandrakes. As the evening passed, tense as a bowstring, I helped Severus brew the Mandrake Draught to restore the petrified students while we waited to hear the worst about Ginny.

I'm not sure exactly how everything unfolded, but by the end of the night not only was Ginny back with us and perfectly safe (saved by her brother Ron and Harry Potter), but Professor Dumbledore was also reinstated as headmaster, Hagrid was released from Azkaban, and Lockhart ended up with all of his memories somehow erased. From what I had garnered from the few words of conversation I held with _him_ before he was shipped off to Saint Mungo's, which mainly consisted of him asking me repeatedly what was my name again and was I, hopefully, his girlfriend, I found the change to be a definite improvement. That night everyone in the castle stayed up until the early hours of the morning for an impromptu feast, the highlight of the festivities being the sight of the once petrified students running into the Great Hall to join their classmates in their celebration.

Though, as a treat for making it through such an arduous year, the students were excused from their final exams, I was not. At the end of June, just before the conclusion of the final term, I had my final evaluation with Professor Sprout where I had to teach a day of Herbology lessons. Professor Sprout told me at the end of the final class that I had passed with the highest marks she had ever awarded an apprentice. Since the following day was a Saturday, Severus and I stayed up all night celebrating the conclusion of at least one of my apprenticeships by drinking sparkling cider and pretending we were drunk; since my expectant condition disallowed alcohol, Severus abstained as well so I wouldn't feel left out.

Finally the school year ended, and all of the students were shipped off back to their homes across Great Britain. The following day I returned to my own home in Nova Scotia by successfully Apparating all the way across the Atlantic Ocean. That evening I had a very long sit-down with my mom and told her everything that had happened to me over the past ten months. At first she was furious I hadn't told her straight away about Severus and my pregnancy, but she eventually calmed down and admitted that she had much preferred to hear about it this way as opposed to in a letter. As we had arranged before I left the school, Severus arrived the next morning to meet my mom and my grandparents. After a week of visiting other relatives and showing Severus around my hometown, we both returned to Hogwarts to begin preparations for our wedding. Professor Dumbledore kindly allowed me to remain in residence in my old rooms at the castle, though of course I hardly ever actually slept there, and he also happily consented to our wish of being married on the school grounds near the lake.

Severus and I decided to buy a house in Hogsmeade, since he couldn't stomach the thought of living in Greyadder House just yet, and it wouldn't really be appropriate for me to live in the school with a small child. We assumed the arrangement would work out well enough since I could visit Severus every evening I wanted, and we could live together in town the entire summer. However, we had just begun our house hunt when we heard that Sirius Black, a convicted mass-murderer, had escaped from Azkaban. Since Severus admitted that Black was one of his enemies from his school days, and we also received word Dementors were going be patrolling Hogsmeade once the term started to "protect" the school, Severus decided it would be safest for me to live in the castle after all. Professor Dumbledore granted us permission immediately, so we put off purchasing a house until a later date.

After what seemed like a century of waiting, Severus and I were finally married on August the twenty-first. The ceremony was small and intimate with only our closest friends, colleagues, and my family in attendance. In a moment of whimsy, I had written to the parents of Nan Cobble and Luna Lovegood to ask their permission for the pair to be my flower-girls. The parents had consented, though slightly confused, I'm sure, as to why I would favour those two students over all the others, but I just couldn't think of anyone better for the part. During the ceremony Luna and Nan walked side by side down the white carpet, Nan throwing rose petals like they were grenades and Luna too distracted with watching the clouds above her to remember to drop any flowers at all from her own basket. As I peeked out of my pavilion, I laughed so hard watching both them and Severus' pained expression as they walked toward him, that I had to quickly Vanish and reapply my mascara so I wouldn't look like a raccoon from bawling tears of hilarity.

Once I began my own procession down the aisle, all thoughts evaporated from my mind as I walked toward Severus, who looked criminally handsome in his black dress robes. I barely remember the actual ceremony, and I have no idea what vows I spoke. All I remember is being held transfixed by the glimmering grey of Severus' eyes and the moment when they blinked out and I found myself kissing him to the uproarious delight of the crowd.

During the reception I took a minute to escape from the well-wishers to seek out Nan. After traipsing around half of the lakeside with my dress hitched up to save the hem from mud, I found Nan sitting by herself on the shore of the great watery expanse. She hadn't bothered to protect _her_ dress, and I could see a damp spot working its way through the viridian dupioni up her back. She, however, seemed completely unbothered by it and was amusing herself by throwing petit fours into the lake. Knowing by now that asking what she was doing would probably not explain it, I simply walked up to her. Deciding a little mud never hurt anyone, especially a bride who was as now as proficient in magic as I was, I plopped down on the wet sand next to Nan.

"Hi, Mistress Asphodel!" Nan said with a huge grin. I don't think she quite understood just yet that that wasn't my name anymore.

"Hi, Nan," I replied, watching as she resumed her overhand lobbing of desserts as far as she could into the water.

"Nan, I need to ask you something," I said.

"Uh huh!" Nan had run out of petit four ammunition, so she turned to face me.

"Do you remember a few months ago when you saw me in the library and told me, 'He's going to be ok,' a few times?" I hoped in her delightful vapidity, she hadn't forgotten what I was talking about.

Fortunately, she instantly said, "Yup!"

"Who was the 'he' you were referring to?" I asked.

Nan rolled her huge, brown eyes melodramatically and replied with pretend exasperation, "Professor Snape, of course! And he _is_ ok, just like I told you. See?"

I smiled, Nan's exuberance charming me like it always did.

"And _how_ exactly did you know that?" I asked lightly, smoothing the cream tissue silk of my skirt to give my hands something to do while I anticipated her answer.

Nan smiled brightly and replied, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world, "I dreamt about it, so it had to be true!"

I'm sure with anyone else, her reply would have raised a few eyebrows and probably sent some fingers circling around ears. Perhaps Nan was used to this sort of response to statements of hers, for her shining eyes seemed to be hiding a fear of yet another adult refusing to take her seriously. She hugged her knees up to her chest and rested her chin on them while gazing out across the brilliant blue expanse. I reached out and took Nan's hand in mine.

"I believe you. Thank you so much, Nan, for telling me that when you did," I said solemnly. With my words Nan's effervescent mood suddenly returned, and she beamed at me.

Realizing Severus would probably be wondering where I had disappeared to, I stood and Vanished the mud from my skirt with my wand, which I had stashed in the hollow busk of my dress' corseted bodice. Neither Severus nor myself went _anywhere_ without our wands these days. Nan waved me goodbye as I made to start back up the path to the reception tents.

But after just a few steps, I turned around and asked worriedly, "Have you told your parents about your dreams?"

Nan nodded vigorously, the motion jostling a thick tangle of curls free from her barely contained braid. "Oh, of course! They think my dreams are really cool!"

I nodded in satisfaction. "Good," I said simply, then began the treacherous climb back up the path, my high satin heels slipping more than once on the smooth pebbles.

When I had crested the top of the hill, Nan's distant shout of, "Hi hi!" brought my attention back to the lake. I was just in time to see a huge, pink tentacle wave at where I knew Nan to be sitting before dropping back underwater with a crashing splash. Nan's joyful cry of, "WOO HOO!" stayed with me in my heart long after I re-joined my husband at our party.

After the wedding Severus and I had a scant week to honeymoon in Paris before he had to return to the school to quickly pull things together for the coming year. On the evening following our quite adult-rated wedding night, as Severus and I were strolling idly through the Tuileries after an evening at the Opera which he had insisted upon, I realized it was exactly one year to the day since I had crashed into him in the upper hallways of St. Mungo's Hospital. I couldn't believe it was only a year ago when I had met Severus, and now here we were, walking hand and hand as husband and wife. I knew that if I was somehow able to go back in time and talk to myself that afternoon following Severus' London lecture, my past self would probably laugh in my own face when told that within a year I would be married to the man I had just mortified myself in front of.

Our honeymoon passed painfully quickly, and before we knew it a new school year at Hogwarts had begun. Since I was no longer a staff member, I didn't feel right attending meals in the Great Hall, although Professor Dumbledore had graciously invited me to. Therefore, I was not present at the Welcoming Feast when Professor Dumbledore stated offhandedly, after introducing Professor Lupin, the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, and a Mr. Sebastian Irons, the new Ancient Runes apprentice, that, incidentally, over the summer I had wed Professor Snape and that the students were to refrain from bothering me while I was staying in the castle. At this announcement, Severus recalled to me later, a couple of the boys who had been rather in love with me last year actually burst into tears. Since there wasn't much for me to do stuck in the castle without a job, I took to hanging out in the library and helping students with their homework like I had in the past, completely happy with them "bothering" me after all.

Severus turned out as just the sort of over-protective father-to-be that I had figured he would be. He had at first insisted that I go to weekly check-ups with Madam Pomfrey, but, between her and I, Severus was finally convinced that once a month was plenty sufficient. After Sirius Black broke into the castle over Halloween, Severus didn't want me to even leave the dungeons without him. That I immediately put a stop to, informing him that I wasn't going to remain stuck in our rooms while he was in class all day, and if I could manage a Revenant, then I could certainly handle a simple homicidal maniac. Again Severus relented, and until I grew too big with the baby to even want to walk around, I kept up my usual wanderings around the castle and grounds.

Though I enjoyed every minute of my pregnancy, around the end of the eighth month I couldn't wait to get the baby out of me. There isn't much magic can do when a baby is adamant that your ribs make the best footrests. Finally, the happy day came, and in the early hours of the New Year, Armand Charles Snape was born at Saint Mungo's in London. I was able to stave off the utter exhaustion following his delivery long enough to give Armand his first feeding before I dropped off into sweet unconsciousness.

I slept for several hours and the first thing that greets my eyes upon opening is the sight of Severus brushing back the few wisps of black hair from our son's forehead and kissing him there lightly. I keep my head slack against the pillow, content to simply watch them for a while, my heart overflowing with joy and contentedness.

But mixed in with those wonderful feelings is the slightest dash of fear. Severus is concerned that Black's escape from Azkaban might be a herald for the Dark Lord returning to power. Even now he occasionally feels a twinge of pain from the Dark Mark on his arm, as though it's fighting to break free to the surface. Whispers from Severus' former Death Eater contacts hint that the Dark Lord is seeking followers to help restore him to his former strength. And, if he succeeds, what will be Severus' fate? Will he have to return to his previous role as a spy to ensure our safety from the Dark Lord's vengeance?

Brushing those painful thoughts aside, I force myself to breathe in every detail of this moment so it will live in my memory forever. As though sensing I'm awake, tiny Armand turns his storm-grey eyes toward me and blinks thoughtfully for a beat before bursting into ferocious tears. I laugh as Severus starts at the sudden eruption and gesture for him to bring the baby over so I can slacken his hunger once more. As I nurse Armand, Severus lays down beside me on the hospital bed and wraps an arm around my shoulders while resting his head against mine. I don't know what the future shall bring, but I know that for now, for this one moment, there is nothing more in the world that I need.


End file.
